


Chosen

by Remy_Writes5



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Bonding, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, Post-Apocalypse, Zombie like creatures, overlord Mycroft, solider John, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remy_Writes5/pseuds/Remy_Writes5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the collapse of civilization and the spread of "the sickness", Mycroft Holmes has risen to power. As his younger brother, Sherlock Holmes gets to choose the alpha to see him through his heats. John Watson has been chosen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing? Stupid brain. I should be working on my other WIPs but this has been rolling around in my brain for a while. Hopefully it won't turn out to be too long.

“John Watson, you have been chosen.” 

John had just been stopping through, looking for a place to spend the night. He was being assigned to the South and was at the Centre to meet his new CO, Colonel Sebastian Moran. The Centre was one of the few places someone could spend the night without having to sleep with one eye open. 

It had been three years since the collapse of civilization and Mycroft Holmes’s rise to power. There were still pockets of cities that hadn’t fallen into chaos and that had a lot to do with the new emperor and his control over the military. The soldiers did their best to keep order and when they couldn’t, they eliminated the threats. 

They called it “the sickness” and when it struck England, it struck it hard. Half the population was rabid, uncontrollable and insane. There was only one thing to do with someone infected with the sickness and that was to kill them quickly, with a bullet to the head, before it spread to someone else. The sickness was spread through saliva and the fastest way to be infected was getting bitten. 

“I’m sorry?” John looked up into the face of a kindly looking old woman. She beamed at him as if she had just given him amazing news. 

“Come along dearie, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

“Who doesn’t? What’s going on?” John left his dinner on the table and followed the woman, jogging to catch up with her. “Who are you?”

“Mrs. Hudson, dear.”

“And who am I off to see?” John inquired, having no idea what being “chosen” meant. 

“Sherlock Holmes, of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Get up young man.” Mrs. Hudson called as she picked up some of the things strewn around his room.

            Sherlock flipped onto his stomach and grumbled into his pillow, keeping his eyes closed.

            “You know what day it is and you know what that means.”

            Sherlock stretched his long limbs, letting out a yawn. He could feel it starting and he hated that fact. He was starving, which he hardly ever was. He was a touch too warm and there was a familiar ache in his bum. Soon it would start demanding attention but for the moment it was content to just be a bother.

            Sherlock rubbed his face against his pillow and then turned towards Mrs. Hudson. “Breakfast first.”

            “Naturally. I’ve already got them making it. Now up, up, up.” She walked over and flung the covers off of him. It was actually a relief to get some coldness on his overheated skin. “You’ve got to shower and then you have to go pick an alpha. And don't forget to take your birth control unless you want a little one growing inside you.”

            Sherlock groaned, flopping onto his back and staring up at the high ceiling. “What’s the point in getting clean? I’m just going to get filthy again.” Sherlock argued, sighing deeply. “And just send me whoever I had last time.”

            “You'll want to look presentable for your alpha. Sebastian Wilkes again?” Mrs. Hudson asked with a raised eyebrow.

            Sherlock sat up immediately, wincing at cramps in his stomach. “Oh no, not him. He keeps trying to bond with me. He’s gotten into his thick skull that he’s my alpha.”

            “Well you have been with him through your last five heats. It’s what happens when you get lazy with this kind of thing.” Mrs. Hudson chastised. There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Hudson answered it, bringing in Sherlock breakfast tray.

            Sherlock shoveled eggs in his mouth at an alarming rate, his stomach growling the entire time. He would have a few more hours of discomfort and then his heat would really set in. At that point he would take a broomstick without a care, he would just want something to alleviate the heat.

            “What about the person I had before that?” Sherlock asked around a mouthful of toast.

            “The Colonel has been bonded to another.”

            “Was it Moran?”

            “Indeed it was. I guess for once you’ll have to go pick out an alpha yourself, unless you want Wilkes again.”

            “No.” Sherlock shuddered. If he let Sebastian into his bed again, he didn’t doubt the alpha would bite him and try to force the bond, even if Sherlock didn’t want it. “Fine, I’ll go down after breakfast.”

            “There’s quite a few soldiers in the centre. The place is practically reeking of alpha scent you can hardly distinguish one from the other. When you do go down, be careful. They’ll be able to smell your heat and that many alphas are likely to cause a riot just to get to you.”

            “Fucking hormones.” Sherlock grumbled under his breath and stabbed at his eggs.

           

                                                                                                                                                                                          

* * *

 

 

           

            After breakfast and a shower, when Sherlock was feeling a little less awful, he ventured out of his room. Still in his pyjamas and dressing gown, Sherlock stalked the halls and glared at anyone who dared look at him funny. If he was going to be going into heat, he was going to be comfortable while doing it.

            “Sherlock!” Greg called out and hurried down the hall to get to him.

            “Well, my brother’s let you out of captivity, that’s nice of him.” Sherlock said dryly.

            “You’re a hoot Sherlock.” Greg said, struggling to catch his breath. “He sent me to watch over you while you pick out an alpha.”

            “Is there anyone in this god forsaken place that doesn’t know I’m in heat?” Sherlock hissed, wrapping his dressing gown tighter around himself and eyeing the people passing by. He could have sworn people were looking at him curiously. He had just taken a shower so his omega scent couldn't be too strong. 

            “Are you kidding? This is Mycroft we’re talking about.”

            “It would be nice if the entire centre wasn’t aware that I’m about to become a horny, simpering mess.”

            “Look Sherlock, I, of all people, know what you’re going through. Alphas don’t get it. For them it’s nonstop sex for days on end. For us its discomfort and bloating and inconvenience.”

            “Oh God.” Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please, let’s not turn this into a brother – in – law bonding session. My stomach is already churning, the last thing I need it to hear about you having sex with Mycroft.”

            “I wasn’t going to go into details!” Greg insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “Just knowing that it occurs is already too much.” Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust. “And what’s more, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

            “Well Mycroft thinks you do and I do what Mycroft wants, so shall we?” Greg gestured down the hall.

            “Why does he insist on treating me like a child?” Sherlock stomped down the hallway, letting everyone know of his displeasure.

            “Probably because you act like a child.” Greg informed him.

            “Does he not realize I’m in my thirties?” Sherlock kept on complaining as if Greg hadn’t spoken.

            “Do _you_ realize you’re in your thirties?” Greg asked, turning his face upwards and shaking his head.

            Sherlock didn’t respond. They’d arrived at the two-way mirror that let them see into the dinning hall. Sherlock surveyed the prospective alphas. It seemed to be the usual lot that were always there. He saw Sebastian Wilkes seated at one of the tables and felt a bit of a pull towards him, which he hated his body for. His scent was familiar and therefore comfortable. Sherlock did his best to ignore it but none of the other scents called out to him. 

            He was about to give in and just chose Sebastian, surrendering himself to being bonded to the enormous twat, when someone new walked in. Sherlock stared at the short, blond haired man for a while, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. He liked the way the man carried himself, even though he was shorter than most of the people in the room, he stood tall.

            Sherlock was intrigued. “Who is that?” he asked, placing his finger on the glass directly over the blond alpha.

            “No idea.” Greg shrugged. “Must have just come in. I’ve never seen him around before but then it’s bloody difficult to keep everyone straight in this place.”

            “I want him.” Sherlock made his decision with a final nod.

            “Are you sure?” Greg stepped closer to the glass and assessed Sherlock’s choice. “He might not even be an alpha. He doesn’t really look like one, does he?”

            “He is.” Sherlock raked his fingers down the glass, enjoying the coolness against his heated skin. “I can smell him from here. He smells…good.” Sherlock couldn't remember the last time he had been so affected by an alphas scent. He could feel his body reacting to it, his cock stiffening in his pyjama bottoms. 

             “Okay, we better get you back to your room.” Greg steered Sherlock away from the glass. Being around so many alphas, so close to their scents, had made Sherlock’s heat go into overdrive. Greg hurried Sherlock back to his room and locked the doors behind them, bolting them shut. Sherlock had the most advance locks in the building aside from Mycroft’s room. When Sherlock was in heat, they couldn’t guarantee his safety unless he was properly locked in. His doors were reinforced steel to keep alphas from breaking them down.

            Greg pulled out his phone and went through the database. When people entered the centre they had to sign in using their thumbprint and DNA to be sure they weren’t infected or a carrier. Some people, for reasons unknown, couldn’t be infected by the sickness but they could carry it and pass it on to other people. He went through hundreds of names and faces until he found the alpha Sherlock had picked.

            “Captain John Watson.” He informed Sherlock, who was already beginning to undress, his clothes weighing on his body. “I’ll send Mrs. Hudson down to go get him and bring him up to you.”

            “Hurry.” Sherlock pleaded, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room. “It’s starting.”

            “Two seconds.” Greg promised and went to find Mrs. Hudson.

 

* * *

 

 

            “I’m sorry, Holmes? As in Mycroft Holmes?” John asked, following Mrs. Hudson into the lift. She pressed for level six and together they rode up.

            “Yes, this is his younger brother Sherlock.”

            “What could he possibly want with me?” John asked, somewhat to himself. He knew he hadn’t messed up any protocols or procedures. He had the second highest shooting accuracy of anyone in the military. It was why he had been assigned to Moran’s unit, the first highest in accuracy. His troops were elite, going into the most infected areas and wiping them out quickly. John had been honored to be chosen.

            “Sherlock Holmes is an omega.” Mrs. Hudson told him, answering his question.

            “Is he?” John thought it over for a moment. It made sense. There was no way Mycroft Holmes was anything other than an alpha. If one child was born an alpha, the next would undoubtedly be an omega, it was just how it worked, or visa versa. It was how John’s parents had known he would be an alpha, after his older sister had been born an omega. It was possible to have Beta children but the most likely pattern was alpha for the first child and omega for the second or omega first and then alpha for the second. “And what has that got to do with me?”

            “Sherlock is in heat. As brother to Mycroft, Sherlock gets to pick the alpha who sees him through that heat. This month he’s chosen you.”

            “But why? He doesn’t even know me.”

            The lift dinged with their arrival on the sixth floor. Mrs. Hudson stepped out first and John tentatively followed her. There were only a few doors on the floor they were currently on. John had been assigned to the second floor and there was three times as many rooms in his hallway, all crammed together to allow more people refuge. The rooms on the sixth floor must have been quite large.

            “It’s Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson said fondly. “How am I supposed to know what goes on in that funny old head of his?”

            They stopped in front of last door on the left. Mrs. Hudson took the keys out of her pocket and began to unlock the door. “Wait.” John put his hand over hers to stop her. “What am I supposed to do?”

            She gave him an admonishing smile and a pat on the back. “What you were born to do dearie.”

            She opened the door and pushed John through. Immediately his senses were overloaded with the scent of an unbonded omega in heat. His biological impulses took over and right away all he could think of was _take, have, own mine, mine, mine!_


	3. Chapter 3

            John took a moment to calm down but each deep breath just made him inhale more and more of the omega’s scent. Mrs. Hudson had left and the doors had been bolted shut. John was alone with this omega and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself for long. The scent was too tantalizing and it had been much too long.

            Usually, John had sex with Beta women. He had hardly ever come into contact with omegas. The last time he had been with an omega had been two years ago when one of his comrades, Bill Murray, had told him in confidence that he was an omega about to go into heat. He had been taking suppressants to hide what he was but if he stalled off having his heat for much longer, they would stop working all together. Then everyone would know what he was and he would have to leave the military. Having an unbonded omega in the ranks was too dangerous. 

            He had trusted John to see him through his heat. They went to a safe, secluded area and John had done what he could to ease Bill’s way. Since then John had hardly ever run into any omegas. Most hid what they were with suppressants. It was too dangerous to be an omega nowadays, with the amount of chaos going on. Most got bonded to the first decent alpha they could find. Otherwise they would be at the mercy of alphas.

             “Hurry up.” A deep voice snapped from the bed.            

            John felt his feet moving without his consent, carrying him closer to that voice and the bed. As he moved forward, an expanse of long limbs and alabaster skin came into view. John swallowed and did what he could to keep a grip on his mind. He was not one of those senseless idiots that couldn’t control themselves around an omega.

            “Um, hi.” John said lamely, dumbstruck by the sight of a very tall, very beautiful omega stroking himself.

            “Ugh, why are you still wearing clothes?” The omega demanded, pounding his unoccupied fist on his pillow in frustration. “Was the situation not explained to you?”

            “It was, sort of. You’re in heat.”

            “Brilliant deduction.” The omega rolled his eyes and then turned his head to glower at John. The soldier almost gasped at how striking his eyes were, how they pierced him with an icy stare. “Now strip.”

            John shuffled his feet slightly. “Shouldn’t we talk about this first?”

            “I’m in _heat.”_ Sherlock hissed. “This isn’t a date. You’re here to fuck me so get on with it.”

            “Are you always like this or just this time of the month?” John asked with a smirk, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor.

            Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean _like this?”_

“I mean bossy.” John answered, undoing his trousers and pushing them down with his pants.

            “Oh.” John couldn’t tell if the noise was Sherlock understanding what he’d meant or a reaction to the sight of John naked. Sherlock’s eyes had drifted down to John’s impressive cock before snapping back up to his face. “Yes, I’m always this bossy. Now get over here.”

            “It doesn’t bother you?” John asked, crawling onto the bed. Rubbing his hands over Sherlock’s thighs, he could feel how warm the omega was, the softness of his skin. He took over wanking Sherlock, batting his hand away. Without preamble, he slipped two fingers inside Sherlock’s wet entrance and Sherlock arched up off the bed with a gasp.

            “A great many things bother me.” Sherlock said through gritted teeth. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

            “That we don’t know each other at all.” John clarified, twisting his fingers just so and watching as Sherlock keened. “You don’t even know my name.”

            “Captain John Watson.” Sherlock replied almost defiantly

            “Sherlock Holmes.” John shot back with a smile.

            “Now that the introductions are over will you please get inside me?” Sherlock growled, grinding down onto John’s hand.

            “I thought I was inside you.” John responded cheekily, twisting his hand again to brush his fingers over the omega’s prostate.

            “You know what I mean.” Sherlock hollered in frustration.

            “Very well.” John eased his hand out of Sherlock’s body and crawled up the bed. He lied on top of Sherlock and was about to capture his lips when Sherlock’s hand shot up to stop him.

            “No kissing.”

            “Seriously?” John raised a curious eyebrow.

            “On the lips. And if you even think about biting my neck and trying to bond with me, you’ll be killed before you can even enjoy it.”

            “Charming.” John shook his head and instead started kissing Sherlock’s neck. He could hear Sherlock beginning to pant in his ear and assumed he was on the right track. “I understand the whole bonding thing but why no kissing?” John murmured against Sherlock’s throat.

            “Intimacy.” Sherlock said breathlessly, thrusting his hips up, searching for relief for his aching cock. “I find that if I let people kiss me during my heat, they assume it’s more intimate than it’s meant to be. It’s just fucking. Besides, I don’t like kissing.”

            “You’ve never kissed me.” John argued, licking a stripe up Sherlock’s throat and over his adam’s apple.

            Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Like I’ve never heard that before.”

            “You know, even before everything went to shit, I was never really into this.”

            “Sex?”

            “One night stands. I always preferred to go to bed with someone I knew and was interested in rather than just fucking some stranger.”

            “Well, considering my heats last from anywhere between three to seven days, I wouldn’t consider this a one night stand.”

            “Then I think it’s safe to say we’ll get to know each other pretty well.” John grabbed a pillow off the bed and placed it under Sherlock’s hips. He gently spread the omega’s legs and than ran his hands up Sherlock’s body. Sherlock squirmed underneath him.

            “Ticklish.” Sherlock informed him.

            “See, we’re getting to know each other already.” John smiled and lowered his face, pressing his nose against the thatch of pubic hair. He inhaled deeply, where the omega scent was strong, and felt his cock ache with need. He kissed his way up the side of the shaft before licking away the bead of precome that had formed at the tip. He heard Sherlock make a noise suspiciously like a whimper.

            “John, please.”

            “Let me kiss you and I will.”

            Sherlock frowned, his brow stitching together unhappily. “No.”

            “Okay.” John shrugged and moved to the end of the bed, flopping down onto is sideways. “Then we’ll both just sit here and suffer.”

            “Why would you do that?” Sherlock asked, staring at John incredulously

            “Have you seen your lips lately? I’m pretty sure it’s worth it.” John lazily started to stroke himself, starting at the base and slowly moving up, twisting his wrist so his thumb brushed over the head. “You know I could probably come just from this and your scent alone. I’m guessing the same can’t be said for you.”

            “Is that some sort of challenge?”

            “Just stating facts.” John shrugged.

            Sherlock moved so quickly, John didn’t have time to react before Sherlock was on top of him, pinning his hands above his head. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

            “A bossy omega twat who thinks this is all about him?”

            “It is about me!” Sherlock shouted with insistence. “It’s _my_ heat.”

            “And it’s _my_ cock you want up your arse.” John countered and moved his hips, his prick rubbing against the cleft of Sherlock’s arse.

            “I…I could have you replaced.” Sherlock threatened, losing his train of thought for a moment.

            “Then do it.”

            Sherlock worried his bottom lip, considering. John saw his opportunity and managed to get one of his wrists free. He wrapped his hand around the back of Sherlock’s neck and brought their lips together. Sherlock made a startled noise against John’s lips but didn’t pull away. Gradually, their mouths opened and John teased at Sherlock’s tongue, flicking his own while Sherlock’s chased it.

            John eased Sherlock down onto his back, still kissing him hungrily. He resituated the pillow under Sherlock’s hips and then pushed inside him. John took his time, thrusting in a bit and then easing back, then thrusting in deeper and doing the same. Sherlock whimpered and moaned into John’s mouth almost continuously until John pushed all the way in and Sherlock gasped, biting down on John’s lower lip and drawing blood.

            John put his hands on the bed to brace himself while he set the pace. Sherlock raked his fingernails down John’s back, digging in harder as he came for the first time. John mouthed his way down Sherlock chest, licking away some of the come.

            “You’ll pay for making me wait as long as you did.” Sherlock informed him.

            “I don’t doubt it.”

             "Most alphas wouldn't dare. They usually can't wait to stick their cock in me."

            "I'm not most alphas. Best you learn that now."

            John’s knot was beginning to inflate as he neared his orgasm. Sherlock’s cock was rapidly thickening again, ready for another release. “Birth control?” John panted out, wondering if he should push his knot in or pull out. It was stupid of him to have waited for the last moment to ask but he had been distracted.

            “Yes.” Sherlock nodded emphatically. John didn’t miss the way Sherlock tilted his head to the side, presenting his neck. It probably wasn’t even consciously done but John was fascinated by it anyway.

            John twisted his fingers into Sherlock’s hair, slotting their lips together as he shoved all the way in. He did a few more shallow thrusts and then he was coming, their bodies now fused together. Sherlock’s body clenched around John's prick, milking John for more. Sherlock came again, his body trembling under John.

            They kissed languidly until John’s knot deflated and Sherlock’s body released him. John rolled off of Sherlock and stared up at the ceiling. The sweat on his skin was rapidly cooling, making him shiver. He grabbed the duvet from where it had fallen to the floor and wrapped it around both of them.

            Feeling affectionate, he bundled Sherlock up into his arms and held him. He expected Sherlock to complain and yet he didn’t. “Sleep.” John said gently, rubbing Sherlock’s back. “Rest until the next time.” And surprisingly, Sherlock did as he said, closing his eyes and drifting off in John’s arms. 


	4. Chapter 4

John had forgotten what it was like seeing an omega through their heat. He couldn’t recall the last time he had had so much sex. The entire room reeked of it and it had only been one day. He couldn’t even imagine six more.

            Sherlock was sleeping again, exhausted from their last go, where he’d rode John so hard John had seen spots for twenty minutes afterwards. John knew he should be sleeping as well; it wouldn’t be long before Sherlock was up again and demanding more sex, but there was something about Sherlock when he slept. He looked peaceful and almost childlike. John knew it was just his alpha instincts but it made him fiercely protect of the omega.

            John ran his fingers through Sherlock hair and listened as Sherlock made contented little noises in his sleep. John pulled him in tight against him and began kissing Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock whined in the back of his throat and started rubbing his bum against John’s crotch. Even in his sleep Sherlock took what he wanted.

            John placed soft kisses against Sherlock’s shoulder, being careful to stay away from the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted was Sherlock thinking John was trying to bond with him. In truth, even if Sherlock wasn’t dead set against bonding, John would have reservations about bonding with him. John lived a very dangerous life and he honestly liked it that way. He really didn’t consider himself bonding material.

            John could feel some liquid on his thighs and knew Sherlock’s body was gearing up for another round. John hooked his elbow under Sherlock’s leg to spread them a bit for better access and then guided him cock inside. He went slow, undulating his hips, and watched as Sherlock gradually blinked awake.

            “Normally I would have someone killed for fucking me when I’m not awake.” Sherlock’s voice was rough from sleep, making it even deeper. John shivered and lowered Sherlock’s leg. Instead he wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts.

            “Then have me killed.” John growled against Sherlock ear and bit the shell of it in a challenge. Sherlock moaned and buried his face in his pillow. “That’s what I thought.”

            “You seem oddly comfortable with the prospect of being murdered.” Sherlock pointed out.

            “I face down death every day.” John informed him, snapping his hips and thrusting in deeper. Sherlock twisted his fingers into the sheets and bit down on his lower lip to muffle the sounds threatening to escape his mouth. “You don’t scare me.” John whispered against Sherlock’s ear.

            “I could kill you myself.” Sherlock tried to regain some ground.

            “You’re welcome to try.” John invited him and took his hand off Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock whimpered in protest and John decided to tease him. He ran his hand down Sherlock’s stomach and over the insides of his thighs but didn't touch Sherlock where he knew he needed it.

            “John.” Sherlock snarled and grabbed his wrist, forcing his hand back to his crotch.

            “Say please.” John said mercilessly

            “No.”

            “Then I guess you’ll be left wanting.”

            “John.”

            “I bet you’re used to alphas that do whatever you want. Men who fall all over themselves to give you anything you desire.”

            “Yes.”

            “Then you should have picked one of them.” John told him and then laughed at the face Sherlock made.

            “Please.” Sherlock said quietly.

            “What was that?”

            “PLEASE!” Sherlock hollered angrily.

            John chuckled but did as Sherlock asked, taking him in hand again. John kissed behind Sherlock’s ear, a place he had learned the day before was very sensitive. As soon as John licked the skin there, Sherlock came, his body clenching around John and sending him over the edge as well.

            Sherlock settled back against John as their bodies remained connected. John tentatively kissed the nape of Sherlock’s neck and was surprised when he wasn't rebuked for it. Instead Sherlock had another orgasm, spilling into John’s hand.

            John was ready to pass out when there was a knock on the door. He looked questioningly at Sherlock who simply shrugged in reply. “Answer it.” He commanded and John rolled his eyes.

            “Getting me back for teasing you, huh?” John inferred and slipped out of the bed. He looked around for something to cover himself with and found Sherlock’s dressing gown on the floor.

            “Something like that.” Sherlock smirked.

            John didn’t want to risk opening the door without knowing who it was. But when he smelled a somewhat familiar omega scent, he unbolted it allowed Mrs. Hudson to enter.

            “I just brought you some breakfast. I figured you two would be needing to keep your strength up.” She walked over to the bed and placed it down, hardly scandalized by Sherlock lying there naked and debauched looking. John assumed it must not have been new to her.

            “Mrs. Hudson, you’re a saint.” John smiled warmly at her. “You must be, to put up with him.”

            “Hey!” Sherlock shouted indignantly.

            “He’s not so bad.” She patted him on the head.

            “Thank you Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said approvingly with a nod in her direction.

            She shooed him off the bed and Sherlock moved, grumbling as he went. John was a bit embarrassed as she started taking the dirty sheets off the bed, knowing what they were covered in. But she didn’t bat an eye, stripping off the old sheets and putting fresh ones on.

            “From the scent in the air, I’d say you two are getting along famously. Was he a good choice Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson inquired with a knowing smile.

            Sherlock and John’s eyes met and John raised an eyebrow, waiting for Sherlock’s answer. “He’s been perfectly adequate.”

            “High praise indeed.” John shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “I’d say more than that going by the state of these sheets.” Mrs. Hudson interjected and Sherlock glared at her. John bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a giggle. “Well you boys enjoy your breakfast.”

            Mrs. Hudson left and John locked the door behind her. He slipped off Sherlock’s dressing gown, missing being surrounded by the omega’s scent more than he cared to admit, and got back onto the bed. He grabbed some food before Sherlock ate it all.

            The room no longer smelled like the two of them and John missed that as well. There were still lingering traces of Mrs. Hudson that made the room smell wrong. Once they had finished the food, John felt less exhausted. Apparently Sherlock felt the same because he was hard again and pulling John to him.

            “Are you sure you want my 'perfectly adequate' cock inside you?” John asked teasingly, his fingertips just barely brushing over Sherlock’s skin.

            Sherlock rolled his eyes and spread his legs wider in an open invitation. “Just hurry up and get inside me.”

            John shook his head and kissed Sherlock hard, stealing his breath away. “As you wish.” John whispered against his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! See you all in 2013!


	5. Chapter 5

John considered what he was currently engaged in the strangest way to get to know person he had ever encountered. When they weren’t fucking, they were either sleeping, eating or talking. Sherlock was, without a doubt, the most bizarre person John had ever met. There were times when he thought Sherlock knew everything, could see everything. It would have been unsettling if it weren’t so fascinating.

            It had been three days of them together in a room that was bolted shut. The only other person they saw was Mrs. Hudson who brought them food so they didn’t starve to death. John was certain it was just to close quarters and intimacy of their current situation that was making him so affectionate towards the omega.

            As night fell on the third day, John wondered if that would be it. Sherlock had said his heats could last only three days and it was possible that in the morning he would be chucked out. Neither of them wanted to bond and John was shipping off in a week and a half anyway. He hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Moran, he’d been chosen by Sherlock on his first night in the centre.

            John hardly slept the entire night, wondering and worrying a little, that it might be his last night with Sherlock. John had never really seen the big deal with finding an omega. He had been perfectly happy having sex with beta women. But after the last few days with Sherlock, he could certainly see the appeal. It would have to be the right omega though. John couldn’t imagine doing the same thing with just anybody.

            Finally, at around five in the morning, John passed out from exhaustion. He fit his body against Sherlock’s and nuzzled his face against the nape of the omega’s neck. He could imagine so clearly biting into the skin, making them so much more. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought it might not be so bad, being bonded to someone.

           

* * *

 

            John was dreaming of dark curls and pale flesh. He didn’t know why, but he knew if he bit into that bit of skin, he could have something wonderful. Just one bite couldn’t hurt anything; in fact it would make everything better. John was sure of it. His mind was an endless loop of _mine, mine, mine, mine, mine_ until he opened his mouth, preparing to sink his teeth in.

            John was jerked awake by the feeling of being pinned. He opened his eyes and found Sherlock looming over him, holding him down. “What the hell –“

            “You tried to bite me.” Sherlock explained quickly.

            “Oh god.” John stared up at Sherlock in horror. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to –“

            “I believe I already informed you that I have no interest in being bonded to anyone.”

            “I know that.” John said as he tried to break out of Sherlock’s hold. The omega was deceptively strong. “I don’t want to be bonded either.”

            “It seems that at least subconsciously you do.”

            “No, I don’t.” John clenched his jaw.

            “Normally I would have you thrown out of my room, however…” Sherlock let go of John’s hands and grabbed the base of John’s cock, sinking down onto it immediately. John arched off the bed in shock. “It appears we’re going into day four.”

             “Sherlock.” John cried out breathlessly, all the air escaping his lungs at once. Sherlock grabbed the headboard and began to move. John was flooded with a million different feelings all at once. He was relieved that their time wasn’t over just yet. He was concerned that he’d tried to bite Sherlock in his sleep. He couldn’t even imagine what would have happened if Sherlock hadn’t woken up and stopped him. He was also very, very happy to have Sherlock bouncing up and down on his cock. He threw his head back against the pillows and let himself enjoy it for a few moments.

            “John.” Sherlock said sharply and John knew what that tone meant. John ran his hands over Sherlock’s thighs, up his chest before thumbing his nipples. Sherlock hissed in pleasure and tightened around John’s cock. John gasped at the sudden pressure on his prick and had to take deep breaths to calm down.

            He moved his hands to Sherlock’s arse and squeezed. “John.” Sherlock said again, his voice on the verge of pleading. John, feeling guilty for earlier, decided to give Sherlock what he wanted. He wrapped his hand around Sherlock cock and moved his fist up and down the shaft.

            John could feel the building of his orgasm when a knock on the door interrupted them. John and Sherlock stared at each other in confusion and then both looked over at the door. “Sherlock?” A distinctively male voice comes from the other side of the door. From the way Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly, John assumed he knew him. “Sherlock, love, I just looked at the calendar and noticed what day it was. I know you must be missing my giant alpha cock. Let me in.”

            John couldn’t help the growl that bubbled up from inside him. Sherlock’s head snapped back to John when he heard it and his lips twitched up into an amused smirk. He started to move again and threw his head back. “Oh God.” He shouted comically loud.

            “Sherlock.” John hissed.

            “Sherlock, are you all right?” The voice behind the door asked, pounding on the metal.

            “Oh God.” Sherlock moaned this time.

            “Sherlock, what’s going on? Do you need help?” The knocking got louder.

            “Yes.” Sherlock cried out. “Yes!”

            “Sherlock!”

            John, who was red in the face with fury, wrapped his arms around Sherlock and flipped him over onto his back. John slipped out of him but he didn’t care, the moment was more or less ruined. Instead he clamped his hand over Sherlock’s mouth to silence him. Sherlock continued talking, his voice muffled against John’s hand.

            “Sherlock!” The voice turned concerned.

             John could smell the alphas scent, the rancid smell permeating the air. John snarled and looked over his shoulder at the door. “He’s trying to break it down.” John said through gritted teeth as the alpha outside slammed against the door.

            Sherlock was laughing against John’s hand and John could have murdered him. He leapt off the bed and went to the door. “Your services are not required, he’s being taken care of.”

            “Sherlock, who is that in there with you? Sherlock?”

            “Fuck off!” John hollered, curling his hands into fists with rage.

            “Sherlock!” The alpha continued flinging himself at the door, trying to get in. “Sherlock, answer me. I can smell him. You fucking omega bitch. I thought you were mine. How dare you let someone else fuck you? You were mine you fucking tease.”

            “Hey.” John shouted, slamming his hand against the door. “You’ve got ten seconds to piss off before I come out there and rip your head off. And if you ever speak to him like that again, you won’t get the ten second warning.”

            John listened at the door but nothing except silence followed. He turned back to Sherlock, who was looking at him in bewilderment. John stalked towards Sherlock and grabbed him by the hair, smashing their lips together in a bruising kiss.

            He spent the next several minutes marking Sherlock’s body with lovebites, sucking into pale skin until he was satisfied. Surprisingly, Sherlock let him, lying back and letting John do whatever he wanted. When a decent amount of Sherlock was littered with John’s handiwork, John grabbed Sherlock and threw him onto his stomach. John knelt behind him and grasped his hips, fucking into his roughly.

            John snapped his hips, thrusting into Sherlock hard, the slap of skin on skin so loud in John’s ears. He was somewhat aware that he was running his mouth but he had no idea what he was saying. Sherlock was moaning uncontrollably beneath him, beyond the capability of speech. When John’s knot inflated and he forced it inside, Sherlock’s body shook as he came onto the sheets. Almost right away he came again, another full body shudder rippling through him as more come stained the sheets.

            Feeling slightly more human, John eased them onto their sides so they were spooning. Sherlock was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving. “Shh, it’s okay.” John said soothingly, kissing Sherlock’s temple.

            When Sherlock’s body released John, Sherlock rolled out of the bed and mumbled something about the bathroom. John looked after him, wondering if he had done something to upset him. The door was shut and John could hear water running from inside.

            John dropped his head onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he had said something that Sherlock hadn’t liked. He couldn’t recall even a single word he had spoken but something must have been off. Sherlock wasn’t exactly the type to retreat.

            John gave Sherlock a few minutes alone before he went to the bathroom. He gently rapped a single knuckle on the door. “Sherlock, I think we should talk.”

            He heard a deep sigh from inside. “If we must.”

            John eased the door open and found Sherlock lying in the tub, surrounded by bubbles. John smiled a bit shyly at him and sat down on the edge of the tub. “So who was that then?”

            “Sebastian Wilkes.” Sherlock answered in a clipped tone.

            “And why was he trying to get in?”

            “He’s under the delusion that he is my alpha.”

            “Why would he think that.”

            “Because he’s seen me through my last five heats.”

            “Jesus.” John scrubbed his hand over his face. “I can see how he might have gotten that impression.”

            “I never made him any promises.”

            “Sherlock, you’ve spent around thirty-five days with him in less than half a year basically just having sex.”

            “And spent the remaining one-hundred and fifteen ignoring him completely.” Sherlock sniffed and sunk deeper into the water.

            John dipped his fingers into the water and swirled the bubbles around pensively. “So is that what’s going to happen to me then?”

             “Hmm?”

            “When your heats done. Will I be ignored as well?” John inquired, not quite able to look Sherlock in the eye.

            “Well, so far you’re not as boring as he was.”

            John bit his lip to keep from smiling at that. “But…”

            “You know I have no interest in finding a bond mate.”

            “What about a friend?” John asked, raising his eyebrow.

            “I don’t have friends.” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.

            “Seems a bit lonely.” John gathered some bubbles into his hand and flicked them at Sherlock. They landed on his chin and then fell to his chest.

            “And becoming the friend of someone who’s leaving in a week and a half seems like more trouble than it’s worth.” Sherlock responded, frowning deeply.

            “I’ll be back at some point.”

            Sherlock lifted his head up and stared at John accusingly. “You don’t know that.”

            “Hey, I don’t plan on dying.”

            “Very few people plan on dying, it doesn't stop it happening.”

            John cupped his hand under Sherlock’s chin and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were concerned about me.”  
            “It’s a good thing you do know better.” Sherlock smirked. He reached up and took John’s hand tugging him forward. “You’re too far away.”

            “Missing me already?” John teased.

            Sherlock sat forward and John carefully got into the bath behind him. Sherlock rested against him, laying his head on John’s shoulder. Wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s body, John closed his eyes and simply held him. Even after three days of sex, John could honestly say this was the most intimate thing they had done. 


	6. Chapter 6

It was the last day of Sherlock’s heat and they could both sense it. Sherlock’s body had been producing less lubrication so that John had to use some from the bottle in Sherlock’s nightstand. There was a sort of melancholy feel to the entire day as John waited to see which time would be their last.

            He had only known Sherlock five days and yet the idea of leaving made something painful ache in his chest. He knew it was just his hormones and the circumstances by which they had been thrown together, but it was there all the same. John had no doubt Sherlock would make him leave the moment the heat was done. Then a little over a week later, John would be deployed to the south where the number of infected was said to be the greatest.

            John had missed the adrenaline and clarity he found in the field. Being in the centre, everything had gotten all muddled. He needed to get back into soldier mode and stop acting like a lovesick alpha. Although he did have to admit this was a fairly excellent way to spend his leaves. Perhaps he could convince Sherlock to let him see him through another heat if he were around. Unfortunately that had too many “ifs” and he couldn’t let himself hope that Sherlock would be amendable to it.

            As he slipped inside Sherlock for what was likely to be their last time, John took his time to marvel at the man below him. The way Sherlock’s body spread to let John inside, the way his deep, rumbling moans went into John’s ears and straight down to his cock, how those pale eyes made it feel like John couldn’t keep a secret even if he tried. He was truly the most extraordinary man John had met and he knew he would look back on the last five days fondly. It would be something to cling to on cold night where John had to sleep with one eye open.

            John moved languidly, certain that he would stay inside the omega for as long it was allowed. He indulged in Sherlock’s body, his lips sealed over Sherlock’s in an unrushed kiss. John threaded his fingers through Sherlock’s and held onto his hand, his other braced on the bed by Sherlock’s head. Their bodies were so close that each thrust made Sherlock’s prick rub in between them.

            John kissed along Sherlock’s jaw and down to his throat. John thought about how easy it would be to turn Sherlock’s head just a bit more and find the perfect spot to sink his teeth into. Then Sherlock would never belong to anyone else. He would be John’s completely.

            John shook his head slightly to get those ideas out of it. This was not something he would take. He would wait until it was given freely. It would probably never be by Sherlock, which John could understand, but perhaps someone else would consent to being John’s omega. Now that he was reminded how good it felt to give into his biology, John thought he might welcome having an omega. Maybe after there was a cure found for the sickness, or it was wiped out completely, and he could retire from being a soldier.

            They had done it enough times that John could recognize the oncoming of Sherlock’s orgasm. “Let go,” John whispered against Sherlock’s ear and felt Sherlock’s body spasm. His body clamped down so tight on John’s cock it bordered on painful. John squeezed Sherlock’s hand and waited for his heart rate to come down.

            Sherlock had his eyes shut tight, his face tilted away from John. He looked almost in pain and John worried that he had hurt him. “Sherlock?” John asked, the concern in his voice evident. He stroked his thumb over Sherlock’s cheekbone and then brushed it over Sherlock’s bottom lip. He cried out in surprise when Sherlock took John’s thumb into his mouth and bit down on it playfully. His eyes shot open and John swore they were glinting with mischief. John smiled and attempted to pull his thumb out, only to have Sherlock bite it harder.

“I’m going to need that back at some point.” John informed him wryly. Instead of releasing the digit, Sherlock pulled it further into his mouth and began to suck on it. John watched in rapt fascination as Sherlock ran his tongue over the pad of John’s finger. “Fuck.” John swore under his breath. In all their time together, John had never had Sherlock go down on him. He was starting to realize what he’d missed out on and it reminded him that this was most likely his last shot with Sherlock.

He managed to get his thumb away from Sherlock’s grasp and crushed their mouths together. He sucked on Sherlock’s tongue greedily and relished in the whimper that resulted. John could feel Sherlock getting hard again from where their bodies were still pressed tightly together. Somehow managing to snake his hand between their bodies, John wrapped it around Sherlock’s erection and started to pump.

“John, move.” Sherlock ground his hips down to communicate his desires. He wrapped his legs around John and dug his heels into the alpha’s arse, urging him forward.

John started to move, picking up pace quickly once he realized how badly he needed to come. He was so hard after Sherlock’s little display that it was almost painful. He was on the edge when Sherlock moaned his name, so low and long that John felt the vibrations of it everywhere. It pushed him over and he came, so distracted by his own orgasm that he completely missed Sherlock’s.

John dropped onto Sherlock’s chest, not even minding how sweaty it was, and closed his eyes. He could hear Sherlock’s heart beating, racing away inside his chest.

John pressed his lips directly over Sherlock’s heart and then glanced up. Sherlock was staring at him, his eyes darting back and forth, as if he were trying to figure John out. The fact that Sherlock seemed so confused made John’s heart break just a bit, to think that perhaps none of the other alphas Sherlock had chosen had ever been tender or affectionate with him. It seemed no one else had ever fought him on the kissing rule before. Or perhaps he had decided to add that rule after an alpha had done something awful.

John knew he was letting his imagination run wild. Even with spending the past five days with Sherlock, he knew very little about the intriguing man he had been sleeping with. He would have liked to have had more time to get to know Sherlock but the omega had made it clear that was not in the cards for them.

The moment his knot deflated, John rolled off of Sherlock and sat on the edge of the bed, his back towards the omega. For once, he hoped the man who seemed to read his mind couldn’t read this.

“Something the matter?” Sherlock asked, poking John’s back with his big toe.

“What was it like before?” John inquired, just barely turning his face towards Sherlock. “With other alphas.”

“Dull, mostly.” Sherlock responded instantly without hesitation. “I’ve always dreaded my heats, they were always so tedious, being a slave to my biology. I thought it would be better when I got older and used alphas to help me instead of toys. Instead I started missing the toys, being in control of my own body. The fact that once a month I am ruled by my body and not my mind has always been an inconvenience.”

“Some of them weren’t very nice, were they?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can just tell.”

“Some of them were a bit rougher than others but it was never anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Damn it!” John shouted, thumping his fist against the bed. He could see from his peripherals that he had made Sherlock jump in surprise. “You shouldn’t have to handle anything, you shouldn’t have to deal with it, you’re inviting someone into your bed and your body, you should be in control. You’re so stubborn and you fought me every step of the way, just to be contrary. Why weren’t you ever like that with the others?”

Sherlock bit his bottom lip, turning his face away slightly. “Because you let me. I’ve tried that with other alphas before, just been myself, and they usually didn’t like it much. They would tie me to the bed or quite a few of them used to gag me, Sebastian included, not wanting to hear me speak. It’s why I implemented the no kissing rule, I didn’t want to be silenced.”

“I wasn’t –“

“I know.”

John took in a shaky breath, his hands trembling with anger. Suddenly he wanted to hit something very badly; he was so outraged on Sherlock’s behalf. He felt the bed dip slightly and then pale arms were encircling him, one hand lacing through his. “I’m fine.” Sherlock whispered as he rested his chin on John’s shoulder.

            “You deserve better than fine.” John responded softly, dropping his head back onto Sherlock’s shoulder and enjoying the closeness of the moment.

            When Sherlock started fidgeting, John chuckled and shook his head, letting Sherlock pull away. John stood up and turned, placing his finger under Sherlock’s chin and giving him a quick kiss. Sherlock rolled his eyes, knowing why John had opted for such a rapid interaction, not wanting to be like the other alphas attempting to keep Sherlock quiet. He grabbed John by the scruff of his neck and pulled him down for a deeper kiss.

            Sherlock lowered himself down onto the bed and John followed, keeping their lips connected. Reading Sherlock’s cues, John opened his mouth and let Sherlock’s tongue invade him. When he finally pulled away, he stared down at Sherlock’s kiss swollen lips, mesmerized for a moment.

            “Let me wash you.” John requested, brushing Sherlock’s fringe off his forehead.

            “I am capable of washing myself.”

            “I know you are.”

            Sherlock blinked up at him, his brow stitched together in confusion. They stared at each other for a moment and then Sherlock’s eyes widened and he grinned widely, as if he had just figured something out. “Yes,” he nodded in consent.

            John got off the bed and pulled Sherlock up, ignoring Sherlock’s groan in protest, and getting him on his feet. He half-carried, half-dragged Sherlock into the en-suite bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. “I thought you said you were fine with this.” John turned on the taps and tested the temperature of the water.

            “That was before you made me move and I realized how much my body aches.” Sherlock answered, burying his face in his hands.

            “Well, this ought to help.” John grabbed Sherlock under his armpits and carried him into the bathtub. Sherlock spit and sputtered like a drowning cat as he was placed under the spray. John shook his head in exasperation and pulled Sherlock backwards so he wasn’t directly under the water. “Someone would think this was your first shower ever, the way you’re behaving.”

            “I’m tired.” Sherlock whined and leaned heavily against John.

            “Lazy git.” John grumbled.

            He managed to keep one arm around Sherlock’s waist and with the other he got the shampoo. It took some maneuvering but he somehow got the shampoo squeezed into his hand and onto Sherlock’s hair. He massaged it through the omega’s hair and heard him moan in relief. “Why are you doing this?”

            “Because you’re filthy, even with the bath the other day. We both are, actually. You really needed it though, your hair was matted down against your head from all the sweat.”

            John guided Sherlock under the spray and tilted his head back so the shampoo wouldn’t go into his eyes. John had to do his balancing act once again with the conditioner since Sherlock refused to support all his own weight.

            “You like taking care of me.”

            “I do.”

            John grabbed a washcloth off the rack and poured soap onto it. He ran it slowly over Sherlock’s body, taking care not to miss any spots. Sherlock groaned and John did his best not to get turned on by the current situation. This wasn’t about sex, it was about taking care of an omega who desperately needed it.

            He had been so busy trying to keep his thoughts pure that he hadn’t even thought about how Sherlock might be affected. He moved the washcloth down to Sherlock’s genitals and found the omega completely erect. John stilled his hand, slightly shocked by it. This wasn’t the heat anymore, this was all Sherlock. John couldn’t help feeling a bit smug that Sherlock was attracted to him, even without the influence of the heat clouding his judgment.

            John wrapped his hand with the washcloth around Sherlock’s cock and gave it one long strong stroke from root to tip. Sherlock moaned and rubbed back against him. “John,” Sherlock moaned loudly and thrust into John’s fist.

            John dropped the washcloth and took Sherlock back in hand. He stroked up from the base over and over again, his thumb just barely brushing over the head. Sherlock had melted against him, pliant in his arms. “You smell so good.” Sherlock murmured against John’s neck.

            John’s own cock was starting to show interest after John had gone to such lengths not to get an erection. He started thrusting it against the crack of Sherlock’s arse, making Sherlock groan louder. John pressed his lips to the nape of Sherlock’s neck and didn’t miss the way Sherlock tilted his head to the side yet again, allowing John access. It was strange that someone so against bonding seemed to show signs of it several times.

            “Sherlock,” John moaned, growing harder at the sight of Sherlock presenting his neck for bonding. Before John could even ask if Sherlock was aware of what he was doing, the omega’s body shuddered and his release shot onto the shower wall.

            John pushed Sherlock forward slightly so Sherlock had to brace himself against the shower wall. Then John took what he needed, thrusting hard against Sherlock’s body until he released, covering the small of Sherlock’s back.

            “Look at that,” Sherlock turned around and captured John’s lips in a kiss that surprised him. It took him a moment before he started kissing Sherlock back. But just a few short seconds later, Sherlock was pulling away and John was chasing his mouth. “I’m filthy again.”

            “Sorry.” John blushed slightly.

            “Quite all right.” Sherlock bent down and picked up the washcloth, handing it over to John. “I know someone who will take care of it.”

            John laughed, taking the washcloth and pouring more soap onto it, rubbing it together to form lather. “Turn around you lazy bastard.”

            “Yes John,” Sherlock smirked and did as he was told. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my new beta alwaysnifty for managing to fix all my mistakes and not go insane in the process. Any additional errors are mine.

            John felt unsettled being around people again. After five days, in near isolation with Sherlock, he had almost forgotten how overwhelming being in a large crowd could be. He walked through the dining hall, picking out food without really thinking about it and placing it on his tray.

            The overpowering mixture of scents in the room made John – he had gotten so used to just his and Sherlock’s scents – that the smells in the air made him want to cover his mouth and nose with his hand and leave immediately. Unfortunately, his stomach grumbling outweighed his desire to get away from the pungent odor.

            John sat at a table as far away from everyone else as he could get. He looked down at his tray and noticed he had gotten coleslaw, something he didn’t even like, however, he was too hungry to really care. At least the hamburger looked delicious.

            You couldn’t get meat outside the centre, too many of the cows had been infested with the sickness, and the meat couldn’t be guaranteed. Outside in the chaos, your best bet was unopened packaged food you knew someone else hadn’t already touched. John could hardly remember the last time he’d had a real meal before coming to this place.

            He ate the food without tasting it, saving his burger for last. The putrid smell in the air made John want to gag. It wasn’t until a familiar figure sat down opposite him that John could stomach his food. “Sherlock.” John smiled warmly at him. “I left you eight hours ago and already you’re craving my company? People might talk.”

            “People do little else, especially in this place. And I was not craving your company, I merely came down here to eat and saw you sitting alone.”

            John cocked an eyebrow and smirked knowingly. “Uh huh.”

            “It’s true.”

            “Sherlock, you could have gotten food sent up to your room, something I know from experience. I also know you’re not the most sociable of people, so why would you come down here and mingle with us idiots?” John leaned forward and placed his elbow on the table, and rested his chin on his hand. “What else am I supposed to think other than you came down here in hopes of see me?”

            “That I –“

            “Sherlock.” Suddenly, a weasel-looking man with dark hair and shifty eyes interrupted them. John distrusted him immediately. “That was one hell of a stunt you pulled.” The weasel-man reached out a petted Sherlock’s head as if he was some sort of dog. The moment his hand touched Sherlock, something dark and primal inside John grew angry.

            “Sebastian.” Sherlock twisted away from the man’s hand and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

            Sebastian turned his attention to John. “And you must be the alpha he had. He’s not much, is he Sherlock? I’m surprised he could even satisfy you for one day.”

            John smiled, all teeth, and didn’t engage. Instead he took a bite of his hamburger ripping a piece of it off savagely and chewing loudly. Sherlock, however, was not so silent about it. “Actually, John was quite excellent in bed. I’m surprised I could even walk today.”

            The smug smile that Sebastian had been wearing dropped off his face in an instant. The corner of his lips twitched in a low, deep snarl. “I suppose with omegas, pretty much anything will do.”

            “I can’t remember the last time I had anything so big inside me.” Sherlock stated loudly and John nearly choked on his hamburger.

            Surprisingly quickly, Sebastian surged forward, grabbed Sherlock by the hair, and wrenched his head back. “Do you think it’s funny humiliating me? You know everyone warned me about you, about what a cock slut you were. I didn’t believe them but now I see you’ll really just take anything, won’t you?” Sebastian ran a possessive hand down Sherlock’s chest. “And you know what? That’s okay, because I know that even though this tiny little soldier was a nice distraction, next heat you’ll be coming to me. You’ll beg me for my cock like the pathetic whore you are.”

            John slammed his hands on the table and forcefully shoved his chair back so it scrapped loudly along the floor, cutting through the conversation. “Walk away from this table.” John said, his voice stern.

            “Are you going to make me?” Sebastian smirked, tightening his grip on Sherlock’s hair, causing Sherlock to whimper.

            “Release him, now.” John walked around the table and crowded up into Sebastian’s personal space. He kept his shoulders back, his back straight, and his eyes narrowed. “I warned you what would happen if you spoke to him like that again. If you don’t get your fucking hands off him, you will regret it.”

            “Oh.” Sebastian released Sherlock, shoving him away. “It sound like your alpha here is challenging me.” He sounded like the idea of it gave him a particular sort of glee.

            “I’m merely giving you some friendly advice.” John shrugged; his eyes darted over to Sherlock to make sure he was okay.

            “You don’t know him like I do.” Sebastian leaned in, trying to use his height to pretend he was an imposing figure. “He’s worse than you know.”

            “How would you know?” John asked, taking a step forward and making Sebastian step back. “You were to busy gagging him to hear a fucking thing he had to say. If you’d bothered to listen you would have known he is bloody brilliant and amazing. Unfortunately for you, you’ll never get that chance because you’re going to stay the fuck away from him.”

            “Are you sure you’re not challenging me because that certainly sounded like a challenge.”

            John licked his lips and smiled. “Fine. You want a challenge, you’ve got one.”

            “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Sebastian smile was unsettling as he turned to Sherlock, his gaze sweeping up the omega in a predatory manner, before turning away.

            As Sebastian walked away, John watched him somewhat warily, with no idea what John had just gotten himself into. He had heard of alphas challenging each other if they were both interested in the same omega but he never thought it would happen to him. He didn’t even know what it entailed but he was pretty sure it ended with one of the challengers dead.

            He turned to ask Sherlock for an explanation but Sherlock had disappeared. John began to worry that perhaps Sherlock didn’t want to be fought over. After all, what claim did John have to him? Sebastian had been with Sherlock through five heats while John had only had one, if Sherlock wanted Sebastian, he would have chosen him, not John.

            “Well, you’ve had an exciting week.” John turned to find a rather large, intimidating alpha addressing him. It took a lot for John to be cowed, this man could certainly do it.  His hair was kept in a short buzz cut that John instantly recognized as military. “John Watson, right?”

            “Yes…” John said a bit guardedly.

            “Sebastian Moran.” The alpha stuck out his hand for John to shake. “Not to be confused with Sebastian Wilkes, the twat who just left.”

            “Colonel.” John nodded and shook the man’s hand.

            “I meant to introduce myself earlier but you got snatched up by Holmes before I could. Now it seems you’ve got yourself caught up in a challenge.”

            “It appears so.”

            “I’m not going to lose my best marksmen before I even get a chance to take you out in the field, am I?”

            “I hope not sir.” John stood at attention.

            “Very good Captain.” Moran said approvingly. “Well let’s hope you’re as good of a shot as they say. You’ll get a chance to prove it tomorrow.”

            “Pardon?” John asked, not understanding.

            “The challenge.”

            “Right.” John nodded even though he still didn’t quite understand.

            “We ship out in a week Watson; try to stay alive until then.” Moran smiled in good humor and slapped John on the arm.

            “Yes Colonel.”

            “We haven’t shipped out yet Watson. Call me Seb.”

            “Yes si- Seb.” John caught himself. If the Colonel wanted familiarity while in the centre, John was fine with that. He could use all the friends he could get considering how quickly he was making enemies. “And please call me John.”

            “Sure thing John.”

            Seb looked pleased as he excused himself and went to eat his lunch. He was sitting across from a dark haired man with big brown eyes. They were staring affectionately at each other as if there was no one else in the room. Seb slipped his hand across the table and the other man smiled, lacing their fingers together.

            John knew he was staring but he couldn’t help it. The Colonel was bonded to an omega? How did that even work with the Colonel being out in the field so often? John considered it for a moment, and wondered about his own situation. Maybe he didn’t have to wait until retirement to find someone. Perhaps it was possible to be bonded and still be a soldier. Not with Sherlock, obviously, because he didn’t want to bond. The more John thought about it, the more he was coming around to the idea of finding an omega to be with, but only if he found the right one.

            Forcing himself to turn away, John headed towards the lifts, planning to sit alone in his room for a while. He wanted to get away from other people before something else went wrong. Also, he still wasn’t accustomed to the intensity of everyone’s smells. Being alone was probably for the best.

            By the time he got to his door, he was dragging his feet. It had been quite a day already and it wasn’t even past noon. How he had managed to get in the middle of all this mess was beyond him. When he opened his door and found Sherlock inside waiting for him, he was instantly reminded of how.

            John opened his mouth to ask Sherlock what was going on but he never got a chance. Sherlock stalked forward and pressed John against the door, effectively closing it, and crushed their lips together. The omega’s scent flooded John’s nostrils and made him half-hard He let Sherlock kiss him for a few moments, his lips moving in tandem against Sherlock’s. John had never seen someone with such perfect, full lips, and he was content to be distracted by them for a moment. John pulled away as much as he was able to while being pressed up against the door, and John could finally think enough to speak.

            “What the hell are you doing?”

            “I was kissing you, but you’ve stopped that for whatever reason.” Sherlock answered kissing down John’s jaw, to his neck.

            “Did you break into my room?” John asked incredulously. He twined his fingers into Sherlock’s curls, because he needed to hang onto something.

            “Yes, obviously.” John couldn’t see Sherlock’s face but he’d bet anything the other man was rolling his eyes.

            “Why?”

            “What you did today…that was…good.” Sherlock seemed to fumble for the right words. John smiled and pulled Sherlock back for more kissing. He hadn’t been expecting this sort of reaction at all. Wasn’t Sherlock supposed to ignore him? That’s what he’d done with all the other alphas he’d been with.

            “Where did you disappear to?” John asked. He wondered if Sherlock had been in his room this entire time.

            “My brother required a word with me. He likes to stick his nose in my life whenever possible. It makes him feel important.”

            “Well, he does sort of run everything.”

            “Not me.” Sherlock’s hand snaked down John’s body and cupped John through his trousers. He gave John’s dick a friendly squeeze and John couldn’t help bucking into his hand. “Is my brother really what you want to be discussing now?”

            “Hmph.” John grunted, trying to rut against Sherlock’s hand. “No.”

            “That’s what I thought.” Sherlock smirked before capturing John’s lips again. John tightened his hands in Sherlock’s hair but then thought about Sebastian’s actions earlier. Instead he dropped his hand to Sherlock’s shoulders and held onto him.

            “Sherlock.” John moaned, realizing that he was very much not the one in control. He was barely touching Sherlock at all while Sherlock had John in pieces. All John could do was to try not to let his knees give out.

            “Say it John.”

            “Say what?” John’s brow furrowed in confusion. He wracked his brain trying to think of what Sherlock was expecting him to say.

            “You know what.”

            John didn’t but perhaps he could think of something. It was difficult enough with Sherlock’s hand and lips reducing John to nothing but a whimpering mess. He couldn’t even think of what Sherlock might want to hear from him. “I – I –“

            “That’s it,” Sherlock said in encouragement. He opened John’s trousers and stuck his hand in and that made everything twenty times better, or worse because John’s brain was quickly going off-line.

            “I – I think you’re fantastic.” John blurted out.

            Sherlock pulled back, removing his hand, and John really hoped the whine he made in the back of his throat was quieter than it sounded in his head. He stared at John curiously.

            “Was that not the right thing to say?” John asked, quickly adjusting himself in his trousers.

            “I was expecting a declaration of love.”  
            “What? Really?”

            “Most alphas I’m with spend the next day telling me how much they love me and begging me to bond with them.”

            “Oh.” John looked down at his hands for a moment. So it was all just some weird test. “Well, sorry but I’m not in love with you.”

            “But, you’re in a challenge with Sebastian over me. And what about last night?”

            “Last night?”

            “The shower?”

            “You think the fact that I took care of you means that I must be in love with you?” John snorted and shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak again but then what Sherlock had said really sunk in. Perhaps none of the other alphas had ever taken care of Sherlock like that. John already knew Sherlock had been mistreated. Was such a simple thing as cleaning an omega after a heat such an uncommon thing that Sherlock misconstrued it as something else? John worried his teeth against his bottom lip, once again furious on Sherlock’s behalf for all the alphas that had neglected him. “I take care of my sexual partners. You just needed a bit more care than most.”

            “I wasn’t in heat during the shower.”

            “I’m aware.”

            “I don’t have sex outside of my heats.”

            “Then why did you?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Sherlock looked very troubled by that, and John wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or guilty. “If you don’t have sex outside of heats than what was whatever just happened about?”

            “I was thanking you.”

            John scrubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. “Sherlock, I don’t need sexual favours for being a decent human being. Sebastian touched you in a way that was definitely not okay and so I stepped in. What I can’t believe is that you didn’t say anything to him.”

            Sherlock chewed his bottom lip, something John now recognized as a nervous habit when Sherlock didn’t want to answer. “My body is too used to his scent, it has certain reactions that I can’t always control. I can usually overrule it but if he catches me by surprise…”           

            “Wait, are you telling me that you were…turned on by it.” John asked in revulsion.

            “I can’t always control how my body reacts to certain things. I’ve become accustomed to a certain kind of treatment when I’m near Sebastian’s scent. I don’t want to feel that way.” Sherlock retorted, his hands curling into fists by his sides.

            “Oh God.” John turned away, wishing he had never asked. The idea that Sherlock actually liked being handled like that, especially by such a creep, was a sickening one. Although, Sherlock had explained what his previous partners had been like, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising. Still it made John physically ill and more than a little bit angry: at Sherlock, at this stupid biology, at all his sexual partners that had warped his mind into thinking that kind of treatment was normal. “So was he right?” John asked, his chest feeling heavy. “Will you go back to him for your next heat?” 

            “I – I don’t know. I was going to choose him until I saw you. You’ll be gone by my next heat, but, with the challenge tomorrow, so might he.”

            “Yeah, about that, no one will explain. What is it?”

            “You don’t know?”

            John shook his head instead of answering.

            “Then why did you accept the challenge?”

            “I don’t know. He was goading me and I just kept thinking about the way he touched you. I couldn’t just let that stand.”

            Sherlock grabbed John by his shirt and yanked him forward, causing John to yelp in surprise. Sherlock pressed his lips against John’s, and swallowed the noise in a hard and insistent kiss. John kissed back with just equal fervor, and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, pulling him closer, and pushed up onto his toes to keep the craning of his neck to a minimum.

            “You idiot.” Sherlock murmured against John’s lips. “You absolute idiot.”

            Nimble hands began undoing the buttons of John’s shirt as Sherlock kept their lips pressed together. Once he had pushed John’s shirt off his shoulders, Sherlock tore his own shirt from his body. Their bodies pressed together, skin on skin, as Sherlock back John up towards the bed.

            “What happened to no orgasms outside of heats?” John asked, letting himself be pushed down onto the bed and bounced slightly.

            “Exception.” Sherlock responded, crawling over John and looming above him.

            “I told you, I’m not looking for sexual favours in exchange for being a decent person.”

            “That’s not why.”

            “Then why?”

            “Because you could die tomorrow.”

            “Same goes for Sebastian, you’re not going to shag him as well, are you?”

            “Don’t be ridiculous.”  
            “Does this mean you’re hoping I win?”

            “I’m kissing you, aren’t I?”

            “Is that a yes?”

            Sherlock grinned mischievously and mouthed his way down John’s chest. He unzipped John’s trousers and pushed them, along with his pants, down far enough to free his cock. Sherlock bent his head down and licked away the tiny bead of precome that had gathered on the tip. “If you’re not a complete idiot, you should be able to figure that out for yourself. I’m in your room, on your bed, currently between your legs about to suck your cock. Do you need some more clues or have I done enough?”

            “I think I’ve got it.”

            “Good.” Sherlock lowered himself down and took John into his mouth. As an overwhelming heat engulfed his prick, John couldn’t help but think that if somehow he did end up dying tomorrow, he’d have no complaints about his last night alive. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait on this. I completely lost all motivation to write for a moment there. This chapter is now beta'd, huzzah! Thanks to alwaysnifty.

John awoke to the tingling sensation of hair against his nose. Even as it tickled his skin, John buried his nose deeper and nuzzled into that delicious scent. He was honestly surprised to find Sherlock still in his bed pressed up against him. It reminded John of when Sherlock was in heat so he ran his hand down Sherlock’s side.

            A hand shot out and grabbed John around the wrist. “I’m ticklish, remember?” Sherlock said gruffly.

            “I forgot.”

            “Clearly.”

            John smiled against Sherlock’s shoulder before pressing his lips to warm skin. Instead, he moved it lower and wrapped it around Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock arched against him groaning and burying his face partly in the pillow. “Would you rather I touched you here?” John asked smugly.

            “John,” Sherlock moaned breathlessly turning his head to look at the alpha. John seized the opportunity to guide Sherlock’s lips towards his and stole a kiss.

            The air started to fill with Sherlock’s pheromones; the scent of Sherlock and sex in the air made John even harder. He groaned and couldn’t help the tiny thrusts of his hips; he pushed himself against Sherlock’s back. Sherlock began wiggling back against him and John’s eyes fluttered closed.

            John quickly pushed Sherlock onto his back and climbed over him slotting their cocks together and taking them in hand. He jerked them frantically needing to come soon. “Oh god, John.” Sherlock stared up at him in something like bewilderment, his legs shaking beneath John.

            “That’s it, that’s it.” John said encouragingly, gathering up precome and sliding it down their cocks. He began to thrust against Sherlock, his foreskin sliding against the omega’s. Sherlock dropped his head back against the pillows and arched, his mouth fell open as come landed on his chest. The sight sent John over the edge and he cursed as his body shook with orgasm.

            He relaxed onto Sherlock’s chest, not even caring about how filthy it was. He lazily nibbled at Sherlock’s skin; he licked away some of the sweat and relished the taste of Sherlock on his tongue. Sherlock hummed contentedly and wrapped his arms around John.

            “If I die today, say nice things at my funeral.”

            “What should I say?” Sherlock inquired while gently running his fingers down John’s back. “After all, I barely know you.”

            “Well at least say something about how good I was in bed and how you’ll never be fulfilled ever again.”

            “So basically you want me to lie.”

            “Twat.” John pinched Sherlock in retaliation and sat up so he could grab hold of Sherlock’s wrists; pinning him to the bed. Sherlock chuckled until John bent down and kissed him hard. Sherlock moaned against his lips and shifted beneath him.

            John pulled back and released Sherlock’s wrists. Sherlock instantly put his hands on John’s thighs, rubbing them gently. “I do have a dying wish though.”

            “Hmm?” Sherlock hummed absentmindedly, a small smile of contentment playing on his lips.

            “Sherlock.” John touched Sherlock's face placing a hand on his cheek to make sure he was paying attention. “If I do die today, don’t – if you can, don’t choose Sebastian for your next heat.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because that means he killed me… and because the thought of you with him makes me want to break something?”

            “Are you trying to save me John?”

            “Why, do you require saving?”

            You’re the one in trouble, not me.”

            “I’m in trouble _because_ of you.

            “No one asked you to defend my honour.”

            “Doesn’t mean you didn’t need it.”

            The tension had been building as they bantered back and forth but it broke as Sherlock pulled John down into a deep kiss. John fell easily, letting himself be pulled down so that his weight was settled on Sherlock. His fingers twined in lush curls, not pulling, just holding. Sherlock opened his mouth and John followed, their tongues meeting. John had never been so enamored of kissing anyone before but Sherlock’s mouth was wet and warm and his lips were soft and inviting. John didn’t even have it in him to mind the morning breath.

            “Don’t,” Sherlock said softly.

            John, wondering why Sherlock had wanted him to stop, pulled away immediately. “Don’t what?” he asked. He needed clarification so that he didn’t offend Sherlock further.

            “Don’t die.”

            “So you do want me to win?” John smirked triumphantly.

            “I told you so last night.”

            “Not in so many words.” John retorted. In fact Sherlock had danced around the subject, never really saying definitively how he felt. “Just nice to hear you say it.”

            “Well I have.”

            “Thank you.” John pressed a kiss to the corner of Sherlock’s lips. “Now, will you please explain to me what this challenge is?”

 

* * *

 

 

            John had to hurry to keep up with Sherlock’s long strides. They had stopped to put on their coats to stave off the brisk morning air, and Sherlock had on a long flowing coat with a turned up collar. John had been thinking there was no way for him to find Sherlock more attractive than he already did, but the coat was definitely working for him.

            They were walking in what appeared to be an empty a field that was empty except for a farm.  John could see in the distance a 30 foot steel wall, intended to keep out the infected, surrounded the entire centre  “Are those lasers?” John asked as red lights appeared and then disappeared.

            “Yes. The entire grounds are covered in sensors that scan any movement detected. They take a reading of your body's chemical composition and can tell immediately if you’re infected or a carrier. If you're either, an alarm will sound. Something of my own design.” Sherlock bragged unashamedly.

            “Wow, really? So are you good with lasers then?”

            “I’m good with just about everything; chemistry, technology, you name it.”

            “So basically you’re the kid that everyone made sure to cheat off of when exams came around.” John chuckled and shook his head.

            “Something like that.” Sherlock grinned in response.

            “Then what did you do before –“ John waved his hand hoping it would encompass what he wanted to say.

            “Guess.”

            “I wouldn’t even know where to begin with you.” John responded honestly. “Most people you look at them and think oh, they look like a banker or a librarian. I can’t pin you down.”

            “Consulting detective.”

            John stopped walking and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Is that a real thing?”

            “It was after I invented it.”

            “You invented your own job.” John stared at him incredulously. “What am I saying, of course you did. So what does a consulting detective do exactly?”

            “The police came to me with their more challenging cases. I solved the ones they couldn’t.”

            “So you’d tracked down criminals and looked for clues?”

            “An oversimplification, but yes. I used deduction to help me solve cases.”

            “What is that exactly?”

            “I see everything and from that I draw conclusions; form a picture in my head of what happened.”

            “Pull the other one.”

            Sherlock’s face visibly crumbled for a moment but he recovered quickly.  “You’re very protective even though you hardly know me.”

            “Okay.”

            “This most likely stems from having a sibling who is an omega. You’re quick to come to my defense and you make sure to treat me with care. Now it could be inferred that you simply do this because of my history with alphas but you’ve acted that way from the beginning. You’re too inexperienced with omegas for it to have been a former lover –“

            “-Inexperienced?” John interrupted indignantly, raising his eyebrow.

            “And any omega who landed you would be begging you to bond. After all you’re a doctor and now a soldier, who wouldn’t want that? It’s more likely to be an omega sibling who was mistreated.”

            “- Did I ever mention I was a doctor?” John interjected again.

            “You didn’t have to. The calluses on your hands told me that story well enough.”

            “And you expect me to believe that you ‘deduced’ it and didn’t simply look up my file?”

            Sherlock stepped forward and took John’s left hand in his. “This is from holding a gun but the marks are relatively new, no more than a year or two old. You weren’t a soldier until the outbreak happened and you felt the need to volunteer. But you’re not exactly the type the military normally attracts. That means you had something else to offer. This callus here is one you get from holding a scalpel. You’re a surgeon then; you joined up to offer your services. It was only after you began the army learned of your proficiency with a firearm.”

            “Okay and how do you know that?”

            “Colonel Moran only recruits a certain caliber of soldier.”

            “Of course.” John smiled and looked at down at where his hand was still cupped inside Sherlock’s.

            “Well?” Sherlock inquired while looking to see if he had convinced John of his abilities.

            “It’s impressive.” John stepped forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s. “I told you before but I’ll say it again; I think you’re fantastic.”

            Sherlock puffed up from the praise. His thumb idly stroked over John’s palm until he seemed to remember himself. Clearing his throat, he let John’s hand drop. “We should probably…”

            “Right.” John nodded and they continued on.

            They walked further down the field until they came upon a small table. “This is where the challenge will happen. Two pistols will be placed upon this table, each one containing a single shot. You’ll walk ten paces away from each other and when Mycroft says so, you’ll turn and shoot. The more severe wound wins, which can mean the other person is dead. Most go for a kill shot.”

            “You’re kidding me, right?”

            “Oh no, Mycroft is extremely old fashioned. I believe he wishes that he had been born a lord in the eighteenth century instead of now.”

            “And so I’m meant to shoot Sebastian in the head?”

            Sherlock shrugged in response. “Only if you want to win.”

                         

* * *

 

 

            John made sure to take deep breath to calm himself down as he and Sherlock waited for the others to arrive. He still had no idea what he was going to do. If he shot Sebastian in the leg or just tried to wound him, Sebastian could possibly succeed in shooting John in the head or the heart. On the other hand, could John really live with himself if he killed another man over something so trivial? However, John couldn’t stop telling himself that he needed to protect Sherlock, keep him safe, and stop Sebastian from ever hurting him again.

            “Has Sebastian ever been in a challenge before?” John whispered to Sherlock as three men joined them at the field.

            “He’s killed three different alphas in challenges for simply looking at me.” Sherlock answered.

            John steeled his nerve. If Sebastian was handy with a pistol, John had no choice but to aim to kill. He couldn’t let that weasel kill him and take Sherlock. At least it made his decision easier.

            “Welcome gentlemen.” Mycroft Holmes looked from Sebastian to John. “As always, I expect you to follow the rules and keep this neat and clean as possible. Should either of you cheat or shoot early, even if you win, your claim over Sherlock will be forfeit.”

            To his side Sherlock mumbled something under his breath. John ignored him and concentrated on what Mycroft was saying. John had never actually seen Mycroft Holmes before outside of the broadcasts he did to reassure the public that everything was in hand. He could see why Mycroft had risen to easily to power; he had a very commanding presence. Next to him stood his omega, Greg Lestrade, who looked well at ease. He had a kind face and he looked at Mycroft with fondness and respect.

            “Will the two challengers please approach the table and retrieve your pistols.”

            John exchanged a glance with Sherlock and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly before stepping towards the table. “You can back down any time Watson.” Sebastian said as they took up their pistols and checked that the single bullet was loaded in the first chamber.

            “Scared?” John inquired with a cocky smirk.

            “My track record for challenges is three for three. I’m looking forward to it being four out of four.”

            “And yet Sherlock still doesn’t want you.”

            “You don’t know that.” Sebastian sneered while looking down his nose at John.

            “I know last night Sherlock came to my room and slept in my bed. I know we had sex, not just last night, but this morning as well. I’m pretty sure Sherlock’s made it clear which of us he prefers.”

            “You’re lying. Sherlock doesn’t have sex outside his heats.”

            “You can smell him on me, can’t you. You know I’m not lying.”

            Sebastian let out a low growl. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

            “We’ll see.”

            “Alright lads, ten paces.” Lestrade commanded, clapping his hands together three times. John turned his back to Sebastian, clicking the safety off his pistol. He supposed there was nothing for it; he was going to have to kill Sebastian Wilkes. He couldn’t kneecap him because even though it would be painful, he could still aim well enough to kill John.

            As he walked past, Sherlock winked at him, which gave the confidence boost he needed. He didn’t care if he wasn’t going to be around for Sherlock’s next heat, he was going to make damn sure Sebastian wasn’t either. Lestrade called out the ten paces. When he had finished counting to ten, both men turned.

            John didn’t even have to think about it, his finger was on the trigger like the gun was an extension of his arm, a part of him. The bullet was out of the chamber and firmly implanted in Sebastian’s heart before the other alpha even had time to think about shooting his own weapon. Sebastian fell to the ground immediately, choking and wheezing for a few seconds until his heart stopped.

            John looked at the fallen man. He knew he had done the right thing in killing him but he still found no pleasure in it. He let out a shaky breath and lowered the gun.

            “Well,” Mycroft spoke up after a few moments of silence. “I suppose that's that. Congratulations Captain Watson.” Mycroft walked over to John and held out his hand.

            “Thank you.” John responded while shaking it.

            “We’ll talk very soon.”

            “I’d be honoured sir.” John bowed his head slightly.

            John hadn’t seen either of them move, but, in a moment, the two omegas were standing with them. “Greg Lestrade, that was a hell of a shot mate.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Yes, it was very impressive, now, if you’ll excuse us.” Sherlock grabbed hold of John’s arm and dragged him away. John waved goodbye to the other two. Mycroft looked befuddled while Greg chuckled in amusement. 

            “Sherlock, where are you taking me?”

            “Your room.”

            “Why?”

            “It’s closer than my room.”

            “Sherlock –“

            “John, stop arguing with me.” 

            And John shut his mouth and let Sherlock carry him away. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Thanks to my beta Alwaysnifty.

            Sherlock kicked the door closed with his foot and backed John towards the bed. They fell onto the bed together with Sherlock landing on all fours: looming over John. He bent down and devoured John’s lips in a hungry kiss. John had agreed not to argue, so he let Sherlock lead.  John let Sherlock take control of the kiss, and placed his hands on the omega’s back.

“You know,” John started conversationally while Sherlock began unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his way down John’s chest. “For someone who claimed he doesn’t have sex outside of his heats, we seem to be having plenty of it.”

            “Your point is?”

“Do you really not have sex outside your heats or is it just that you’ve never met an alpha you liked enough to bother?” John asked as Sherlock undid his trousers and tugged them down.

Sherlock stopped for a moment, and his eyes became unfocused as he considered. He bit his bottom lip in a way that John thought should not be as cute as it was. John wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s wrist and tugged him down. Sherlock fell easily, in his unguarded state, and John kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Hey,” John nudged Sherlock’s cheek gently with his nose. “It wasn’t meant to stump you. I was just curious.”

“I don’t even masturbate outside my heats, so why am I here?” Sherlock seemed troubled. John felt bad for bringing it up. He also wished he was wearing more clothes if they were going to be having a serious discussion. “I hardly have any sexual feelings at all except once a month when my hormones take over but when I saw you handle that gun, I just… _wanted.”_

“Sherlock, it’s fine. I wasn’t complaining.”

            Sherlock didn’t seem to hear him because he was too lost in his own thoughts. “Something about the way you smell….” Sherlock trailed off in favour of nuzzling his nose against John’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“Well you better enjoy it while you can. After all, I’ll be shipping out in a few days.” John reminded him.

That seemed to get Sherlock’s attention. He bolted upright and stared at John intently with his eyes darting back and forth as if trying to figure something out . Then, without warning, he surged forward and kissed John with hard and insistent lips. The mood shifted back to its original intensity as John moaned into Sherlock’s mouth and felt a resurgence of his original interest in the proceedings.

John had never kissed someone as much as he did Sherlock that day. Their lips stayed fused together, and their tongues tangled as John worked Sherlock open with slickened fingers. He missed the easiness that came with Sherlock’s heat: being able to just slide inside him because Sherlock’s body had done all the prep work. However, he also enjoyed the lack of frenzy that being out of the heat allowed. John could take his time and not be consumed by his biology.

Sherlock started whimpering against John’s lips in need, and John pulled his fingers out.  They both lined up and their bodies connected: it felt right. They moved in unison, and John watched in rapt fascination as Sherlock rode him. It was slow, and intimate, and perfect as John’s orgasm continued to build and build until he couldn’t help but release. His hand stroked Sherlock bringing him off as well.

When it was over, and they were both clean again, John wrapped Sherlock up in his arms. Sherlock still seemed distant as if he was thinking about something else, but John didn’t worry about it. If Sherlock wanted John to know, he would tell him. If Sherlock never told him, well, John wouldn’t be around long enough to worry about it.  That simple fact was why he pulled Sherlock tighter against him.

                                 

* * *

 

Sherlock burst into Mycroft’s chambers.  He ignored the guards’ protests as he stalked towards Mycroft’s desk. He shook off the one guard who tried to grab him and put his hands firmly on the desk. He was not going to move until he got what he wanted.

“Hello brother mine. I remember asking you to always knock.”

“And I remember telling you to shove it.”

Mycroft sighed heavily and went back to sorting through a stack of papers on his desk. “Did you need something, or did you storm in here just to prove that you could.”

“Colonel Moran’s unit is set to ship out in two days time and head to the South, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think our best soldiers should stay here and protect the city?”

“No, the centre is perfectly well protected. The people who need protection are the ones left outside our walls who are at the mercy of those vile creatures.”

“So you’ll send the best fighters we have out into the wilderness to get eaten or infected by those _things.”_ Sherlock spat out angrily.

“No man who volunteered for this duty was ignorant of the dangers that he would be facing. I cannot risk the people of this great nation’s safety simply because you’ve found yourself a playmate.” Mycroft said calmly.  He barely glanced up from his paperwork.

“He isn’t –“

“Do you have any plans to bond with this alpha?” Mycroft interjected as he finally looked up from his paperwork.  <He folded his hands together onto his desk and stared at Sherlock challengingly.

“No.”

“Then he is merely your latest obsession, and we both know how those go. Had you plans to bond with him, that might be a different story. However, since you do not, I must therefore do nothing. You may want to start praying for his safe return.”

Sherlock clenched his jaw, seething with anger, and he turned on his heel before stalking off and slamming the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

For all his extravagance, Mycroft Holmes was a man of simple pleasures. His favorite part of the day was having his omega’s head in his lap: one hand in Greg’s hair and the other holding a glass of wine. It was a daily ritual of theirs, and one Mycroft insisted on. After the hectic schedule Mycroft had, day to day, this was the only way for him to feel relaxed.

“Sherlock actually asked you to postpone the Colonel’s mission?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said no, of course.”

“You said no?” Greg asked incredulously: sitting up and staring at his alpha. Mycroft instantly missed the comforting weight.

“Naturally. I cannot make decisions based on my brother’s whims.”

“Mycroft, when was the last time Sherlock showed interest in anybody? The only person I know of whose company he actively seeks out is Mrs. Hudson.  And when does he ever ask you favours for anything? It must have been terribly important to him if he was coming to you for help.” Greg looked at his alpha and shook his head in exasperation. “The first time he actually asks you for something and you turn him down flat.”

“Its just an infatuation. He’ll be over it within the week.”

“Mycroft, you were there at the duel. You saw the way Sherlock was looking at Watson.”

“Hmm, yes, like he was piece of meat to be devoured.” Mycroft widened his eyes as he tried desperately not to picture it.

“Exactly. I’ve never seen Sherlock look at anyone like that, have you?”

“No, and yet, I asked him if he intended to bond with this Watson fellow and he said no.”

“Maybe he just needs some more time.”

“And how much time would you suggest?”

“A month.”

“A month? I’m to delay my best soldiers a month simply because my brother cannot get up the courage to ask an alpha to bond with him?”

“If I recall correctly, it took you over a year to ask me to bond with you even though we had been sleeping together.” Greg chastised, and put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders.

Mycroft was rendered speechless for a few moments while he considered. “Very well, Sherlock may have his month. But, if at the end of that month he has not bonded with Watson, Colonel Moran’s unit will be shipping out.”

“Thank you.” Greg said sincerely, and he kissed Mycroft’s cheek.

 

                                                XXXXX

 

“Sherlock!” John bounded up to him in the canteen and sat down across from him. “Did you hear the news?”

“Probably.”

“Don’t be a smart arse.” John chided. “Our unit has been delayed a month. Apparently there have been some threats against your brother’s life and he wants us here in case anything happens. I guess he figures that, within a month, everything will have died down.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Sherlock said with a furrowed brow.

“Well it means I’ll be here for your next heat if that’s…something you’d be interested in.” John informed him: blushing a bit.

Sherlock leaned across the table and gave John a quick peck on the lips before anyone saw. When he sat back John had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face.

“Stop smiling like that.”

 “Nope.”

“You’re scaring children.”

“There aren’t any children around.”

“Knock it off John!”

“Not gonna happen.”  John insisted, and his grin got even wider.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling in return. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Whoa it's been a while. Sorry I've been sort of been too busy for fandom stuff over the last year. But with this weekend being Easter I had some free time and felt a little inspiration. I'm really sorry this took me so long and I appreciate anyone still reading my writing or anyone who comes back to it after such a long hiatus. 
> 
> This was unbeta'd because I really just wanted to get this chapter up. So any mistakes are mine! 
> 
> Thanks again and hopefully you won't have to wait so long for the next chapter!

Jim Moriarty panted and moaned as his alpha took him up against the wall. He had his legs wrapped around Sebastian’s waist and his fingernails digging into Sebastian’s shoulders. “Oh fuck yes!” Jim cried out as he came onto himself for the second time.  
When he’d originally found out he was an omega Jim had been livid. He’d promised himself that he would never submit to any alpha. For the longest time he’d taken suppressants for his heats to make him just like any other beta. He couldn’t understand why his biology would be so cruel as to give him a perfect mind and a fucked up body.

  
After hiring Sebastian Moran as a sniper, Jim’s suppressants stopped working, and he wasn’t sure why. When he went into his first heat in fifteen years he called up Sebastian and ordered him to come over. Slowly, month after month, Jim got used to Sebastian seeing him through his heats.  
Without thinking he sent Sebastian on a month long trip to Morocco to clear up a problem he was having with a shipment. He sat in his home office and dreaded the idea of his heat coming and Sebastian not being there.  
But his heat never came.

  
Growing worried, Jim began taking pregnancy test after pregnancy test, fearing the worst. Yet once the month was over and Sebastian was back, his body immediately went into heat. That night Jim allowed Sebastian to bond with him and he finally understood why he had been born like this.  
That had been before the world collapsed and Jim was still annoyed that he’d had nothing to do with it.  
  
“Jim,” Sebastian grunted in need. Jim could feel his knot was fully inflated and pressing against him with each thrust.  
  
“Go ahead,” Jim nodded. He’d always known that if he was going to have an alpha it would have to be one like Sebastian. Strong yet submissive. Jim couldn’t abide people telling him what to do. That’s why Sebastian was perfect.

  
Sebastian licked Jim’s bond mark – a sentimental thing he did every time they mated – and shoved his knot into Jim’s body. Jim screamed and came again as their bodies connected completely and he felt Sebastian pulse inside him and release.

  
Coming down from his high, Jim smiled in satisfaction. Jim had always found the concept of sex a strange one. It was dirty and sweaty and unappealing. It had been something he’d figured he’d never experience before Sebastian.

  
“You’ve made a mess of me,” Jim teased fondly.

“Sorry,” Sebastian murmured and kissed Jim in a way that communicated he really wasn’t.  
  
Jim giggled against his lips and relaxed against him. Being comfortable around someone and letting his guard down was such a new thing for him. But after mating with Sebastian he couldn’t help it.  
  
Once his knot deflated, Sebastian carried Jim into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stepped in with Jim in his arms and stood under the spray. Jim sighed happily and tucked his face into his alpha’s neck as Sebastian methodically and meticulously washed him. “I love you,” Sebastian said quietly, knowing the water would drown out his words. Jim closed his eyes and pretended as always that he hadn’t heard it.

                                                                                                  XXX

“Colonel,” John called out, waving Sebastian over to his table. It had been two weeks since they’d been asked to stay in the centre. John had been spending a lot of time with Sherlock, to the point where he could still smell him, even when they were apart. “Could I have a moment?”  
  
“Of course,” Sebastian nodded and sat down across from John. A moment later Jim sat down next to him. “John Watson, this is Jim Moriarty. Jim Moriarty, Captain John Watson.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Jim said, eyeing John curiously.  
  
John smiled back bemusedly. “I feel like I have mustard on my shirt or something.”  
  
“Don’t worry, he does this with everybody.” Sebastian waved it off.  
  
“Okay,” John said, turning his attention back to Sebastian.  
  
“I’m glad Mycroft finally assigned a doctor to your platoon. You were in desperate need of one.” Jim spoke up.  
  
“I’m sorry, how did you know…”  
  
“Don’t ask,” Sebastian shook his head.  
  
“Indent on your index finger of your left hand. Only comes from holding a scalpel. You’re a surgeon and a bloody good one too I’d wager.” Jim said, cutting up his meat as he spoke.  
  
“I like to think so.” John said, smiling. “That’s pretty observant of you. You kind of remind me of Sherlock.”  
  
“Oh, so you’re Sherlock’s new plaything!” Jim said excitedly.  
  
“Jim don’t –“ Sebastian interjected.  
  
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jim shot back defensively.  
  
“You know Sherlock?” John asked. He was interested to hear what other people thought of the omega. John was becoming increasingly more enamored of him and he was interested in someone else’s opinion.  
  
“Of course we know Sherlock. One might have said we were enemies before the outbreak. I had great plans for Sherlock before the world went to shit.” Jim explained with a sigh of regret.  
  
“What was it you did before the outbreak?” John asked in confusion.  
  
“Consulting Criminal,” Jim answered. “There’s no use in being one now though. It’s no fun trying to ruin the world when it’s already doing it on it’s own.”  
  
“I’m sorry John, you wanted to ask me something?” Sebastian changed the subject quickly.  
  
“I did – “  
  
“So you’re the one I should be thanking then.” Jim said, taking a bite of his meat and chewing it.  
  
“Thanking me for what?” John asked in confusion. He could barely keep up with the conversation.   
  
“For Sebastian being here an extra month and being able to see me through another heat.” Jim responded.  
  
“I don’t understand.”  
  
“Oh please,” Jim said, leaning forward slightly. “You didn’t think it was a bit coincidental that your shipping out got delayed just as you and Sherlock were getting along so famously?”  
  
John chewed his bottom lip. “Th-there was a threat again Mycroft’s life…”  
  
“There was no threat. No one gets in or out of here without Mycroft knowing it. Sherlock went to his big brother and asked for a delay so you could keep fucking him.”  
  
“Jim, stop!” Sebastian growled.  
  
Jim looked at Sebastian incredulously. “You don’t tell me what to do. Ever.” Jim said through gritted teeth.  
  
“Yes, I do,” Sebastian snapped back. “I’m not just going to sit here and listen to you speak to one of my soldiers – “  
  
“Sebastian, it’s fine,” John spoke up. “Please excuse me…”  
  
John stood up and hurried from the table.  
  
Jim sat there pouting and poking at his food.  
  
“Eat,” Sebastian ordered. “You’ve just finished your heat and you need your strength.”  
  
“Stop telling me what to do,” Jim spat back. “It’s infuriating!”  
  
“Don’t worry in two weeks you’ll be rid of me.” Sebastian snarled, shoving his chair back and walking away from the table.  
  
Jim swallowed hard and continued playing with his food. He took a few more bites but couldn’t stomach anything. His bond mark throbbed the way it always did when he was missing Sebastian. He slapped his hand over it and rubbed it furiously in an effort to get it to stop.  
  
Giving up, he stood and went after Sebastian, finding him in their room reading on their bed. The moment Jim entered, Sebastian turned his back to him. Sighing, Jim made his way over to the bed and crawled in with Sebastian, putting his arms around him from behind. He gently nudged his nose against Sebastian’s nape.  
  
“Don’t make me say I’m sorry,” Jim whispered.  
  
“You wouldn’t anyway,” Sebastian shrugged.  
  
“How long are you going to be upset with me?”  
  
“I don’t know Jim, I don’t have a set time planned out.” Sebastian shook his head. “You know you drive me crazy.”  
  
“I know,” Jim nodded.  
  
Sebastian closed his book and turned around to face Jim. “What do you care anyway how long I’m angry with you?”  
  
“I don’t like when you’re like this,” Jim said, wiggling closer. “Especially not when we only have a few weeks left.”  
  
Sebastian cupped Jim’s cheek and leaned in, kissing him deeply. “I’d do anything for you Jim. You know that. That’s how it’s always been.”  
  
“I know that,” Jim said softly.  
  
“But that doesn’t mean that you don’t annoy the fuck out of me sometimes.”  
  
Jim grinned. “Hmm, you could always start spanking me.” he offered, sucking on Sebastian’s lower lip.  
  
“Be careful Jim, I might just take you up on that.” Sebastian warned, kissing Jim again.  
  
“Whatever you need,” Jim murmured. “After all, that’s what I do.”

                                                                                                   XXX

John was furious as he sought out Sherlock. He got into the lift and punched the button that would take him up to Sherlock’s floor. The entire way up he rehearsed what he was going to say. He knew that Sherlock was clever and would find a way to weasel his way out of it.  
  
He rapped his knuckles against the door of Sherlock’s room loudly. “Sherlock, open the bloody door!” John shouted.  
  
Instead Mrs. Hudson appeared looking quite alarmed. “Is something the matter John?” she asked in concern.  
  
“Where is he, Mrs. Hudson?”  
  
“He’s in the bath dear, would you like to wait?” she suggested, still remaining calm.  
  
“No, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” John grumbled, sliding past her and making his way to the bathroom.  
  
“What was all that racket?” Sherlock called out just as John got to the door. In spite of himself, John actually felt a bit ashamed for causing a scene. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the door open and tried desperately not to be distracted by Sherlock in the tub. “Can I help you with something John?” Sherlock asked with a sly smile.  
  
“I met your friend Jim Moriarty. Or your enemy. I wasn’t quite clear on that.” John said, already stumbling through what he wanted to say.  
  
“Jim and I were enemies back before the outbreak. Then when we both came here, and my brother enlisted Jim’s mate Sebastian to lead the army, we put aside our differences. We also bonded over being intellectuals stuck with this awful biology.” Sherlock explained.  
  
“Okay, well as nice as that is, Jim told me that you kept our platoon from shipping out.” John said accusingly.  
  
Sherlock stopped for a moment and his eyes widened.  
  
“Oh Sherlock please, please tell me you didn’t.” John begged, scrubbing his hands over his face.  
  
“Would it be so awful if I had?” Sherlock asked.  
  
“Yes, Sherlock, it would!” John said, snorting in disbelief.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Sherlock, I’m a soldier and a doctor! People need me out there. I could have been doing a lot of good these last two weeks!” John shouted as he paced the bathroom floor determined not to look at Sherlock.  
  
“Or you might have died,” Sherlock interjected.  
  
“I could have died here! Or have you forgotten that little duel I fought over you?” John snapped. “The point is what you did was unbelievably selfish. You just wanted me here so I could fuck you because we both know you have no intention of anything more with me, right?” John spun around the face him and couldn’t keep the hopefulness out of his voice.  
  
Sherlock looked like a wet, lost puppy and it took everything John had not to comfort him or take the question back. He had to know if he was changing Sherlock’s mind about mating even a little bit.  
  
Sherlock bit his bottom lip and looked away from John.  
  
“That’s what I thought,” John said, trying to bury his heartbreak in anger. He clenched his fists together and pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t say anything more. With as much dignity as he could muster, he walked to the door and slammed it shut before leaving the flat, promising himself that he wouldn’t return.


	11. Chapter 11

John was sitting in the canteen, trying to eat his food, in utter agony. He knew exactly what day it was and yet he refused to go back. Sherlock could suffer through his heat on his own. Or find some other alpha to help him.

            John’s hand clenched on his cup so hard he broke it just at the thought of another alpha touching Sherlock. His hand was covered in sticky apple juice and he sighed, wiping it off with his napkin as best he could.  
            “Oh my, it looks like you’ve had a bit of a spill there.” Mrs. Hudson said, standing next to John.

            “I know why you’re here Mrs. Hudson and I’m not interested.” John said firmly, stabbing at his steak.

            “I’m afraid you don’t get much of a choice dear, Sherlock chose you. They’ll be an awful lot of trouble for you if you don’t go up.” She explained to him.

            “You tell that pompous arsehole that he can go shove it.” John said angrily. “And if he wants his big brother to send people after me, well he can go ahead and do that. I’m in the mood for a fight.” John bit his piece of meat savagely and chewed it loudly.

            “Oh dear,” Mrs. Hudson tutted before leaving.  
  
                                                            XXX  
  
            “What do you mean he won’t come?” Sherlock snarled, pacing his room.

            “Just as I said darling, he won’t come up.” Mrs. Hudson explained.

            “Then have the guards drag him up here!” Sherlock shouted, flopping down onto the bed.

            “Sherlock dear, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

            “I don’t want to catch flies Mrs. Hudson, I want to catch an extremely unruly alpha!” Sherlock snapped at her.

 

                                                            XXX

 

            “John dear, please, he needs you.” Mrs. Hudson implored John.

            “Did he say that?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Not in so many words…”

            “Then tell him from me that he can stick this where the sun doesn’t shine.” John said, holding his knife out to her. “And he probably would with the state he’s in.”

            “You keep that, I’ll get the point across without it.” Mrs. Hudson said, looking rather concerned at him.

            As John watched her go, he thought that would be the end of it. He finished off his steak and was just about to eat his peas when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned just in time to see Sherlock stalking over in nothing but a dressing gown.

            John was up in a second. “Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you doing?” he growled, grabbing Sherlock’s arm. He could immediately smell that Sherlock was in heat and his body started reacting accordingly. If his body was reacting this way, he could only imagine what the other alphas in the room were doing. He had to get Sherlock out of there fast before he started a riot.

            “You refused to come up to my room,” Sherlock said simply. “So I came down here to give you no option.”

            “You are such a brat,” John said through gritted teeth. “I said no to you for a reason Sherlock.”

            “A stupid reason!” he shot back.

            “It was not stupid!” John shouted before glancing around. All the alphas in the room that weren’t bonded were standing up and looking ready to pounce.

            “I wanted to spend more time with you, what’s so bad about that?” Sherlock asked in confusion.

            “John, mate, you better get him the fuck out of here,” Moran spoke up quickly.

            John pressed his lips together and tugged Sherlock out of the canteen. He stared shoving open doors and got Sherlock into the first empty room he found. He ripped off Sherlock’s dressing gown and shoved him over the table. He didn’t even have the patience to undress, just undoing his trousers and fishing out his cock.

            In one smooth movement, he was fully seated inside Sherlock. Sherlock moaned underneath him. “John!” he cried out, shoving himself back desperately onto John’s cock.

            “Look at you,” John tutted, shaking his head. “What would people think if they saw you like that?”

            “I don’t care what people think!” Sherlock yelled before giving a cry of frustration. “John! Fuck me!”

            John grinned and sunk his fingers into Sherlock’s hair, tugging him up and making Sherlock arch beautifully. “Admit you were wrong and I will.” John growled, nipping at one of Sherlock’s shoulder blades.

            “I wasn’t wrong!” Sherlock shouted petulantly.

            “It was wrong of you to keep me here and it was wrong of you to keep it from me.” John slid his hand up and began toying with Sherlock’s nipple. Sherlock began making the most delicious mewling sounds as he continued to fuck himself on John’s cock. “Why did you want more time with me?”

            “B-because you’re the only person I can stand in this bloody place!” Sherlock shouted.

            John was taken aback by that information. Slowly, a smile spread across his face and he began to thrust into Sherlock’s body. “I think you’re quite taken with me Mr. Holmes.” John teased as he gradually sped up his thrusts.

            “Am not,” Sherlock shot back before coming with a scream.

            John chuckled. “Despite all evidence to the contrary.” He pulled out, hearing Sherlock whimper as he did so, and flipped the omega onto his back. Sliding back in, John began to fuck Sherlock nice and deep. Mashing their mouths together, he captured Sherlock’s lips in a biting kiss. “You just always have to get your way, don’t you?” he growled, doing sharp thrusts into Sherlock’s body.

            Sherlock arched and moaned underneath him. “John!” he cried out, grabbing him and attempting to bring the alpha closer. He continued kissing John desperately. “Harder John!”

            John wanted to defy him just to be contrary, but his biology wouldn’t let him. Pinning Sherlock down by his wrists, he began pounding into his body. Sherlock began screaming and writhingunderneath him before coming again, this time all over himself.

            John grinned at the sight. “This is what you need isn’t it? You need me.”

            “I do not!” Sherlock said, turning his face away.

            John put his finger under Sherlock’s chin and made him meet his gaze. “Yes you do. That’s why you’re going to wait for me.”

            “Like hell I am!” Sherlock barked out.

            “You are,” John said, kissing Sherlock deeply. “Because you’re not going to want anyone else to touch you after you’ve had me.”

            “When did you become so full of yourself?” Sherlock asked, rolling his eyes.

            “When you asked your brother, whom you hate, to do you a favor, which you hate, just to keep me around for a little while longer.” John responded with a grin. “You can play coy all you want but I know the truth.”

            “And what is that?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That I’m the closest thing to a true alpha you’re ever going to have,” John answered before shoving his knot in and connecting their bodies completely.

 

 

                                                XXX

 

John was certain that there was no greater image on Earth than the sight of Sherlock Holmes riding his cock in the frenzy of heat. They’d managed to move up to Sherlock’s bedroom during one of the breaks. Now they could spend the rest of the heat in the comfort of Sherlock’s room.

John moaned as he looked up at Sherlock bouncing on his cock desperately. That pale neck elongated as Sherlock tossed his head back in the height of ecstasy. John could just imagine sinking his teeth into that neck and binding them together. He had no idea how he’d managed to land such a gorgeous creature but he wasn’t going to question it or complain.

“Come for me love,” John said, stroking Sherlock’s cock, letting Sherlock’s movements push him into John’s hand as he kept it tight around the shaft.

Sherlock groaned and came into John’s hand, his body trembling above John. John wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s neck and pulled him down into a passionate kiss, gently lifting his hips up to fuck Sherlock through his orgasm. Sherlock whimpered against his lips. “Knot me John, I need it,” he said with a contented sigh. John smiled and shoved his knot up into Sherlock’s body.

Sherlock moaned and came again before slumping down on top of John. John slid his hands up around Sherlock and held him. “Would it really be so awful if we bonded?” John asked softly.

“Yes, it would.” Sherlock answered.

“Gee, thanks,” John said sarcastically.

“I’m only thinking logically John,” Sherlock sighed, burying his face in John’s neck. “It’s already going to be difficult saying goodbye to you next week. Do you know how awful it would be if we were bonded? I’ve seen what constantly saying goodbye to Sebastian has done to Jim. He gets this haunted look that he can’t shake. He’s told me how agonizing his heats are when Sebastian is gone. He can hardly reach any kind of relief no matter how hard he tries or what toys he uses. I-if you died out there after we bonded, I would have a lifetime of that. But if you came back, for good, I would consider becoming your omega.”

John listened and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls. “Then I better come back alive, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said softly. “You should.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, it's been a while. Still, not as bad as I've been in the past. Hope you enjoy the update and hopefully I'll have another one soon!

Greg watched from one floor up as the soldiers said goodbye. He felt a pang in his chest for all of them. He’d wanted to volunteer to go out there and help but Mycroft wouldn’t hear of it. Mycroft wouldn’t let his omega out on something so dangerous. And though he sometimes resented Mycroft for keeping him here, other times he was extremely relieved that he didn’t have to leave his Alpha.

            Mycroft walked over and stood beside Greg. “You’re not going to ask to go with them again, are you?”

            Greg shook his head. “No point in asking questions I already know the answer to.”

            “You’re upset with me.”

            “Yes.”

            Greg and Mycroft only had one rule when it came to their relationship; they did not lie to each other. Greg heard Mycroft sigh heavily next to him and then Mycroft’s body was pressed against his. Greg’s eyelids fluttered closed as Mycroft nuzzled his bondmark.

            “I gave you the extra month that you asked for,” Mycroft reminded him. “It doesn’t seem to have done any good.”

            “You’re not looking close enough,” Greg told him.

            Mycroft drew his fierce gaze down to where Sherlock and John were standing. He drew a sharp intake of breath and Greg knew that he had seen it too.

            “Well, that’s…unexpected,” Mycroft admitted.

            “I know,” Greg said with a soft smile. “Your brother falling in love. Who would have thought such a thing was possible?”

            “Not me, certainly,” Mycroft conceded, still looking down at them. “But then why is he letting that soldier fellow go?”

            “No idea,” Greg said, shaking his head. “You know your brother doesn’t talk to me anymore. He thinks I’m spying on him for you.”

            “Well, you do tell me everything he says,” Mycroft reminded him.

            “That’s not my fault,” Greg insisted, leaning back against Mycroft. “You pry it out of me.”

            “It doesn’t take much, Gregory,” Mycroft teased, pressing a kiss to Greg’s bondmark.

            Greg sighed happily and turned his face so his lips could find Mycroft’s. “I’m not upset with you anymore. How do you do that?”

            “Years of practice,” Mycroft responded, kissing Greg back.

 

                                                            XXX

 

            John stood opposite Sherlock, keeping his arms glued to his sides. They’d made enough public scenes. He wasn’t going to add another one to the list. But god, how he wanted to reach out and touch Sherlock. He wanted to find some way of imprinting Sherlock’s smell on him so he would never forget it, no matter how far away he went.

            “I find it difficult,” John confessed, his voice catching in his throat. “This sort of thing.”

            “I know,” Sherlock said softly.

            “I didn’t think this day would actually come,” John said, moving a step closer. “I thought you’d find some mad way of keeping me here.”

            “I exhausted all options, I assure you,” Sherlock told him with a small smile.

            “I didn’t expect this to hurt so much,” John whispered, staring up at Sherlock. “After all, we barely know each other.”

            “John, we’ve been extremely intimate with each other,” Sherlock reminded. “What more could we possibly do?”

            “I suppose you’re right,” John said, shaking his head.

            “I often am.”

            “Prick,” John shot back fondly. “I just thought there’d be more time. More of everything.”

            “So did I,” Sherlock said, closing the distance between their bodies.

            John swallowed hard and stared up into those gray eyes. “Sher –“ the word was swallowed by Sherlock capturing John’s lips. John moaned and grabbed Sherlock by the lapels of his suit jacket, desperate to keep him close. It was a clash of teeth and tongues as they kissed each other hungrily. 

            “You promised to come back,” Sherlock said breathlessly once they finally broke the kiss.

            “Yes, I remember,” John said, resting his forehead against Sherlock’s.

            They stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying the closeness of each other’s bodies.

            “Sorry to interrupt John, but we’re moving out,” Sebastian told them.

            “Be there in a minute,” John responded, not yet breaking away from Sherlock.

            “You have to come back,” Sherlock murmured, his eyes boring into John’s.

            “I will.”

            “Don’t do anything stupid.”

            “That takes all the fun out of it,” John said with a grin.

            “John,” Sherlock growled warningly.

            “Nothing stupid,” John agreed. “I um, I have something I want to give you.” John stepped back and pulled a jumper out of his rucksack. It was cream colored with a pattern down the middle. “It’s my favorite jumper, I wear it a lot. I thought it might smell like me and maybe that would help. I-I know it’s not much, it’s just an old jumper. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it.”

            “No!” Sherlock shouted, snatching it out of John’s hands. “I want it.”

            John beamed at him in response. “Well, I should get going. It’s been an honor, Sherlock Holmes.” John held out his hand for Sherlock to shake.

            Sherlock ignored the hand and instead pulled John into a hug. John buried his face in Sherlock’s neck and inhaled deeply. “I’d rather keep you than the jumper,” Sherlock informed him.

            “I’m afraid the jumper will have to do for now,” John said, reluctantly pulling away. “I have to go.” John reached up and carefully pushed Sherlock’s hair off his forehead. Then he pushed up onto his toes and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Be good.”

            John grabbed his rucksack and backed away, keeping Sherlock in his sights as long as possible. Sherlock gave a small wave and forced a smile onto his face.

 “Oh, and by the way,” John called out. “Since I know you won’t say it, I guess it’s up to me. I think you should probably know that I love you.” Sherlock stared after John, his eyes widened in surprise. John grinned. “If I return, you better be ready to say it back. I’m not bonding with you until you say it.”

“Not if, when,” Sherlock called back, finally finding his voice again.

“Right,” John nodded. “When I return. Goodbye Sherlock.”

“Goodbye John.”

 

                                                XXX

 

“Mycroft, you have to go talk to him,” Greg insisted as they ate dinner.

“What do you expect me to say to him?” Mycroft asked, cutting into his food with indifference.

“He’s depressed, Mycroft. He needs you.”

“My brother hasn’t needed me since he was three years old,” Mycroft informed his mate.

“He hasn’t eaten since John left, he probably hasn’t slept either,” Greg said, looking over at Mycroft with concern.

“Who would have thought that my brother would devolve into a bunch of clichés?”

“He’s pinning,” Greg continued, trying to get through to Mycroft.

“Well if he is there isn’t much I can do about it, is there?” Mycroft sniffed. “I can’t bring this Watson fellow back.”

“Just go to him,” Greg urged his Alpha. “Show him that you care, that you’re here for him if he needs you.”

“Which he won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Gregory, I’ve become quite bored of this conversation,” Mycroft said sternly. “I won’t hear another word about it.”

“Mycroft Holmes,” Greg said, getting to his feet. “If you ever want to touch me again, you’ll go see your brother.”

“Be reasonable –“

“Tonight,” Greg interjected before walking away from the table and shutting their bedroom door with some force.

 

                                                XXX

 

Mycroft finished his dinner and then went down to his brother’s room. Knocking, he felt ridiculous as he waited in the hallway. He knew he should have had a key made up. But considering what Sherlock usually got up to in his bedroom, Mycroft didn’t wish to risk it.

“Oh, hello Mycroft dear,” Mrs. Hudson said as she answered the door. “Have you come to see Sherlock?”

“Yes, I have.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted,” Mrs. Hudson said, standing aside to allow Mycroft to enter the room. “I’m just going to go make some tea, give you two time to talk.”

Mycroft pulled a chair over to Sherlock’s bed and sat down beside it. Sherlock was curled up in a ball, hugging what looked to be a jumper.

“What are you doing here, Mycroft?” Sherlock grumbled.

“I’m concerned about you.”

“Not concerned enough to skip dinner,” Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. Mycroft was glad to see Sherlock was still capable of his usual disdain even in this time of trouble. “The diet doesn’t seem to be going too well.”

“I get my five a day,” Mycroft said, crossing his legs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two items, placing them on the bed next to Sherlock. The first was a single cigarette and the other was a lighter.

Sherlock sat up and grabbed them. “You told me they were all gone, destroyed,” he said, looking at Mycroft suspiciously.

“Most were,” Mycroft sighed. “However I managed to save a few, for special occasions.”

“And what’s the occasion?” Sherlock asked, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting in. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, savoring it.

“If we’re to believe Gregory, a broken heart.”

“Oh, we mustn’t do anything as foolish as that,” Sherlock said, carefully folding up John’s jumper and placing it under his pillow so it wouldn’t smell like smoke.

Mycroft smiled in spite of himself. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“There’s no shame in it, Sherlock,” Mycroft told him softly. “I openly admit to loving Gregory. You should try it sometime. It’s good for the soul.”

“I didn’t love him,” Sherlock insisted, taking another drag of his cigarette. “He was nice. It was nice being with him. That’s all.”

Mycroft stood up and placed his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “Don’t be blind, Sherlock. You of all people should be able to see what’s in front of you.” Mycroft looked pointedly at the lump under Sherlock’s pillow. Sherlock didn’t respond, instead choosing to take another slow drag of his cigarette.

Mycroft removed his hand. “Feel free to join Gregory and I for dinner any time you wish,” Mycroft offered. “And enjoy the cigarette.”

“Just the one?” Sherlock inquired.

“Just the one,” Mycroft nodded, his lips curling into a smirk. “After all, it’s not as if you were in love with him.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just so everyone knows, I am extremely proud of myself for updating this so soon after the last chapter. I hope you guys are just as thrilled!

Sherlock kicked his covers off and flopped onto his stomach. He slid his hands under his pillow and hugged it, burying his face against it and letting out a groan. It couldn’t be his heat again already. It wasn’t fair. How could John abandon him when he needed John here?

            His hand slid over and clasped John’s jumper. He brought it out from under his pillow and stared at it. He flipped over onto his back and placed the jumper over his face, inhaling John’s scent deeply. All that did was cause his body to speed up the process rapidly. Sherlock whimpered and took himself in hand.

            He stroked slowly, imagining it was John’s hand instead of his own.

            _“Are you really going to keep that thing over your face the whole time?”_

            “Of course,” Sherlock spoke out loud to no one. “It smells like you.”

            “ _You’ve gone soft, Sherlock Holmes.”_

“I haven’t gone soft, I just happen to like the way you smell,” Sherlock said indignantly, fighting with his own mental image of John.

            “ _But I like seeing your pretty face.”_

“If I take the jumper off, I won’t be able to smell you anymore.”

            “ _You could put it on,”_ imaginary John said. “ _God, you would look so fucking sexy wearing my jumper.”_

“I might get semen on it,” Sherlock reasoned.

            “ _Then you’d look even sexier.”_

Sherlock grasped himself tighter and began stroking faster.

            “ _You look amazing when you come. Christ, I want slip inside you right now and fuck you while you touch yourself. Is your arse nice and wet for me?”_

Sherlock whimpered and nodded.

            “ _I knew it would be. You’re body is always so eager for me. So ready for my cock. You’ll take it like a good boy, won’t you Sherlock?”_

Sherlock moaned and pawed through his bedside table until he found his dildo. “Yes John,” he murmured as he slipped it inside himself.

            “ _That’s it, just like that Sherlock,”_ John moaned out in Sherlock’s mind.

            “John!” Sherlock gasped out, fucking himself with the dildo desperately. “More, John, more!”

            “ _Do you think I’ve started fucking someone else?”_

Sherlock froze. “What?” he had no idea why he would think that.

            “ _Well, I have been gone for two weeks. Maybe I found a different omega.”_

Sherlock frowned and sat up, the jumper falling from his head. “You wouldn’t. Not even you could work that fast.”

            “ _Why not? I’m an attractive, strong, kind Alpha. Anyone would be lucky to have me.”_

“You wouldn’t because you told me you’re in love with me,” Sherlock insisted, arguing with himself.

            “ _You didn’t say it back.”_

_“_ I didn’t have to.”

            “ _Oh no? And why’s that? You might never see me again. I might die out there and you never told me how you felt.”_

Sherlock swallowed hard and grabbed the jumper, holding it tightly. “You knew,” he said softly. “I didn’t have to say it, you knew.”

            “ _Still, you never told me to wait for you.”_

“I told you to come back, that’s basically the same thing,” Sherlock reasoned.

            “ _How was I supposed to know what you really meant by that?”_ John shrugged. “ _After all, I’m not as clever as you. What if I didn’t know? What if I’ve just saved someone and they’re so grateful that they offer to shag me? What if they smell better than you?”_

_“_ Shut up!” Sherlock shouted with a growl. “Shut up!”

            He pulled the dildo out and tossed it away. Grabbing his dressing gown, he shoved his arms into it and made his way out of his room and down to the canteen. He let his nose guide him to the first alpha he could find. “You, come with me,” he said, grabbing the alpha by the arm and yanking him over to the lift.

            “Oh fuck yes,” the alpha said once he smelled Sherlock. “Need a good seeing to do you, love?”

            “Yes,” Sherlock answered tersely.

            “You know I thought about approaching you before but I didn’t want to risk it with that Sebastian fellow. He was a nasty one.”

            “Indeed he was,” Sherlock agreed as the lift doors opened onto his floor. He led the alpha to his room and unlocked the doors for them. “No biting, no kissing and no bonding. You’re here to fuck me and that’s it. I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to know your name and I don’t want to fall in love with you. This is just a fuck.”

            “Got it, no need to ask your name,” the alpha said with a grin. “No problem there. Let’s get this off you.” He closed the distance between them and pushed Sherlock’s dressing gown off his shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. “Fuck, you’re even more fit than I’d imagined.”

            “Thank you,” Sherlock said impatiently. This was fine. Everything was fine. John knew this would happen if he left. He couldn’t expect Sherlock to go through his heats alone. Still, as the alpha began to touch Sherlock’s overheated body, he felt his skin crawl.

            “ _I told you that you wouldn’t want another alpha after me.”_

“Shut up!” Sherlock snapped.

            “I didn’t say anything, love,” the alpha said, beginning to undress. With each article of clothing he removed his scent got stronger. The smell was pungent and made Sherlock’s nose wrinkle.

            “Stop,” he said, reaching down and grabbing the alpha’s hand before he could remove his trousers. “I don’t want you anymore. You smell wrong.”

            “Oh come on love, we can’t stop now,” he said, still trying to undo his belt.

            “We can and I’m not your love,” Sherlock sniffed at him, shoving him away. “And if you know who I am, you’ll know that if you don’t get out of here this instant, I’ll call my brother and have him make life very unpleasant for you.”

            The alpha’s eyes widened at that. “Fine, fine, I’m going,” he said, grabbing his shirt off the floor and walking towards the door. “Fucking omega tease,” he mumbled as he left, slamming the door behind him.

            Sherlock closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. His entire room smelled wrong now. He quickly grabbed John’s jumper off the bed and pressed it to his nose. John’s scent immediately calmed him down and he knew exactly what he needed to do. He quickly went into his bathroom and showered in an attempt to dull his scent as much as possible. Being in heat meant there was only so much he could do.

            As he began to dry himself off, a plan started to form in his mind. None of it would be easy to complete but Sherlock was up to the challenge. It might distract him from being in heat. And the ever present ache in his bum. 

            The first thing he did was pack his bags, making sure John’s jumper was in with the rest of it. He felt a little shiver at the idea that perhaps all his clothes would begin to smell like John.

            The next thing he had to do was go see Moriarty. He didn’t like the idea of owing Jim a favor but under the circumstances, he didn’t have much of a choice. He went to Jim’s room and knocked on the door. Luckily Jim and Sebastian’s room was on a more secluded floor – due to Moran’s high standing – so Sherlock didn’t have to worry about other Alphas.

            “Jesus, Sherlock, you look dreadful,” Jim said as he opened the door.

            “Yes, thank you,” Sherlock said, pushing past him into the flat.            

            “How can I help you?” Jim inquired, shutting the door and following Sherlock into the main room.

            “Those suppressants you used to take before you bonded with Moran, do you still have any of them?”

            Sherlock shifted uncomfortably as Jim studied him for a minute. “You know suppressants don’t do much good when you’re in heat, yes?”

            “It’s better than nothing,” Sherlock reasoned. “And I need all the help I can get.”

            Jim shrugged. “Sure, you can have them. I think I still have a bottle of them in the bathroom. Give me a second.”

            Sherlock paced the room as he waited for Jim to return. Every second he had to wait was agony. He was tempted to take out John’s jumper to calm himself but he didn’t want Jim to see it.

            “Here we are,” Jim said, returning from the bathroom and tossing Sherlock a small orange prescription bottle. “Nearly full.”

            “Thank you,” Sherlock said, popping open the bottle and dry swallowing one on the spot. “I appreciate it.”

            “I had no idea you were so sentimental, Sherlock,” Jim said with a grin.

            “I’m not,” Sherlock said defensively.

            “You won’t make it a day outside the centre. It’s suicide to go after him. If it wasn’t, don’t you think I would have gone after Sebastian by now?”

            “It's important. I never told him,” Sherlock murmured, sliding the pill bottle into his coat pocket.

            “So?” Jim said, sitting down and crossing his legs. “I’ve never told Sebastian either. He’s said it to me loads of times but I don’t say it back.”

            “Why not?” Sherlock asked, genuinely curious. He often felt like Jim was the only person he could talk to about things such as these. “What if he dies and you never told him?”

            “You just don’t get it, do you, Sherlock,” Jim sighed and shook his head. “We’ve given up so much of our power to the alphas. This is the one thing we still have left, the one thing we can lord over them.”

            “It’s not like that with John,” Sherlock insisted. “It’s different.”

            “Then why didn’t you say it back?” Jim asked, staring up at Sherlock. “I was standing right there when he told you he loved you. Why didn’t you say it back then, if John is so different?”

            “Because I was afraid,” Sherlock answered honestly. “Because he was leaving and I knew saying it wouldn’t make him stay, so what was the point?”

            “So why are you running off to be with him then? Why is it important now?”

            Sherlock bit his bottom lip. “I tried a different alpha today,” Sherlock explained. “Once he was naked his scent almost made me gag. It was awful. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be with an alpha that isn’t John ever again.”

            Jim looked Sherlock over. “Then you’d better get going, it’s not as if people like us find someone they can stand every day.”

            Sherlock’s face broke out into a smile. “Thank you for the pills.”

            “Any time,” Jim said as Sherlock made a hasty exit.

 

                                                            XXX

 

            The last part of his plan was the trickiest to pull off. He had to try and get out of the centre before Mycroft saw him or tried to stop him from leaving. It turned out all his planning was for nothing because the moment he opened the door to Jim’s flat, Lestrade was standing there waiting for him.

            “Oh,” he said in disappointment.

            “Nice to see you too,” Lestrade responded sarcastically. “His royal highness would like a word with you.”

            “I need to go.”

            “Sherlock, you’re not getting out of the centre without Mycroft’s permission,” Greg told him honestly. “So you might as well come with me.”

            Sherlock’s shoulders sagged and he begrudgingly followed Greg up to Mycroft’s room. When they arrived, Greg went and sat down next to Mycroft on the sofa while Sherlock flopped into an armchair across from them. Mycroft looked at Sherlock for a long time, neither of them saying anything. Greg shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, looking from Sherlock to Mycroft. Finally, Mycroft broke the silence.

            “So, brother mine, are you going to explain your strange behavior or do I have to guess?”

            “How dare you send your pet to fetch me!” Sherlock growled, evading the question.

            “Hey!” Greg said indignantly.

            “You’ve been acting weird all day,” Mycroft said, eyeing Sherlock. “And you seem to be all packed for some kind of trip.”

            Sherlock scowled at his brother. “Don’t get in my way, Mycroft.”

            “You’re not leaving this centre.”

            “Try and stop me!”

            “I will stop you.”

            “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Greg shouted, interrupting their bickering.

            “Would you like to tell him little brother, or shall I?”

            Sherlock pressed his lips together and turned his face away.

            “Sherlock is about to go looking for John Watson, a foolish endeavor that I will not allow under any circumstances,” Mycroft explained to his mate.

            “You can’t keep me here!” Sherlock said, jumping to his feet.

            “I’ve managed it so far, haven’t I?” Mycroft responded, standing as well.

            “I’ll take him,” Greg spoke up, hating when Sherlock and Mycroft fought.

            “What?” The Holmes boys said together as they turned to look at Greg.

            “I’ll take him to find John,” Greg repeated.

            “Out of the question,” Mycroft waved him off.

            “Look, we both know that when Sherlock wants to do something, he’ll do it. You saying he can’t will only strengthen his resolve. So he’s going to go whether you like it or not and we both know he shouldn’t go alone,” Greg reasoned.

            Sherlock beamed at him.

            “Gregory, you can’t be serious,” Mycroft said, shaking his head. “There are other people we could send. More qualified people.”

            Greg paled at that. “Remember Mycroft Holmes that before all this started, I was a police officer. I’m more than capable and I’ve just had my heat so we don’t have to worry about that.”

            “You have no idea how long it will take to find Watson’s platoon,” Mycroft argued, taking Gregory’s hand. “What if it takes you months?”

            “Mycroft, think logically,” Greg said softly. “You can’t send an alpha or even a beta, not when he’s in heat and you don’t have any omegas on your staff. I’m the only person you can send. You know I think of Sherlock as a brother as well, I’ll look after him.”

            Mycroft sighed and dropped Gregory’s hand. “Very well,” he said, going over to the drinks cupboard and pouring himself a brandy. “If I can’t talk either of you out of this, I suppose I have no choice but to allow you to go.”

            “Thank you, Mycroft,” Greg said, closing the distance between them and kissing Mycroft softly.

            “I said I would allow it, Gregory, I didn’t say I liked it,” Mycroft told him harshly, pulling away from his mate. “Their platoon headed south to where the infected areas were of the greatest concern. I suggest you head in the same direction.”

            “South it is then,” Sherlock said with a smile.

           

                                                            XXX

 

            Greg packed his bags and then met Sherlock at the front gate of the centre. Mycroft had sent down the order that they were to be allowed to go. Sherlock went to the garage of the centre and climbed onto one of the motorcycles they had.

            “Oh no, we’re not taking that,” Greg insisted, shaking his head.

             “It’s the fastest thing we have,” Sherlock argued.

            “We’ll be totally exposed!” Greg countered. “We should take a car.”

            “It’ll be harder to maneuver through the bad zones in a car, the bike is our best bet,” Sherlock told him.

            “Oh god help me,” Greg said, climbing on the back of the bike and holding on tight as Sherlock revved the engine and took off. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely sorry for how long it has been since I've updated this. If there's anyone still interested in this story, I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.

            Sherlock rode along the A3 heading south. As they passed cities, they could see the ruin in each. Building were either burned or decaying from lack of use. It made Sherlock’s stomach twist thinking that John could be in any one of these cities fighting for his life. He couldn’t even think about what he would do if he were too late.

            As they got further south, the highway became cluttered with abandoned cars. Luckily the motorcycle could move between them without too much trouble. Sherlock had to slow down considerably in order to maneuver around them.

            He got off at the Brighton exit and felt Greg’s arms tighten around him as they saw the destruction of the seaside town. The buildings were crumbling and falling apart as if trying to make their way into the ocean. It was going to be difficult to find somewhere to stay, and he was becoming nervous that they had yet to see any infected. Perhaps the military had been doing a good job of getting rid of them.

            Sherlock turned off the motorcycle and climbed off. He left Greg beside it as he went to go scout out a place for them to spend the night. When he’d found a suitable place with enough exits that they could get out without trouble, he came back and found Greg.

            “Oh you bloody bastard,” Greg said, smoking his cigarette. “What were you thinking going off on your own?”

            “I was quite safe, I assure you,” Sherlock said, stealing one of his cigarettes from the pack and lighting it.

            “I wasn’t actually thinking about you,” Greg said indignantly, blowing smoking in Sherlock’s face. “It’s a bit difficult for me to help you and keep you safe if you go buggering off on your own. Besides, we’re supposed to have each other’s backs. So no more going off on your own, alright?”

            “Fine,” Sherlock said impatiently. “It’s going to rain soon, can we continue the chastising indoors?”

            “Yeah, alright,” Greg conceded and followed Sherlock into the building he’d picked out. They both dropped their cigarettes on the ground before they went in.

            Sherlock sat down against one of the walls and shifted uncomfortably. His body was still aching with his heat and now that they were no longer on the bike, he couldn’t distract himself. There was nothing but the need left.

            “I suppose a fire is out of the question,” Greg said, sitting down opposite Sherlock.

            “Only if you want to alert every infected to our presence.”

            “Fine.” Greg zipped up his jacket against the cold. “How are you holding up?”

            “I’m fine,” Sherlock answered curtly, turning up his coat collar. It's colder than it should be, but the building is in such disarray that it doesn't block out the wind. A fire would be welcome but they couldn't risk it. Even with the cold, Sherlock was sweating from his heat. The cold and the heat give him chills as his body reacts to each sensation in waves. Sherlock wanted to pull out John's jumper. The added warmth and John's scent would help to calm him, but he didn't want Greg to see it. 

            “I wouldn’t be,” Greg confessed sympathetically. “If I was in my heat, I wouldn’t be able to function at all.”

            “Can we not talk about it?”

            “Look, Sherlock, I know you haven’t forgiven me for mating with Mycroft, but we used to be friends,” Greg said softly.

            “We were not _friends,”_ Sherlock said with derision.

            “Fine, maybe we weren’t friends,” Greg conceded with a shrug. “God knows I could barely stand you for more than an hour. But we went through some pretty big scrapes together before the sickness happened. We’ve been through a lot and I just want you to know that I’m here.”

            “Yes, I’m aware of your presence, Lestrade.” Sherlock looked over at him, his eyes searching. “Why would I need to forgive you for mating with my brother? It was no concern of mine.”

            “Oh come off it,” Greg snorted. “After it happened you barely spoke to me. Wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore. I thought my falling in love with Mycroft would make us closer, you know? More like brothers. Instead it just drove you away. You acted like I was your toy that Mycroft had stolen from you.”

            “I never considered you that,” Sherlock said in a clipped tone.

            Greg smiled a bit sadly. “Even if my being with Mycroft is something you can’t look past, I want you to know that I’m here. I’ve always been here and well…I understand what you’re going through. When Mycroft and I first got together he was always going off for some meeting, looking for help from other countries, trying to stop the sickness from spreading. I was in agony every time he was gone. So I know what it’s like.”

            “Oh please.” Sherlock rolled his eyes before turning his face away. “Mycroft was always heavily guarded. Nothing would have happened to him. It’s different with John. He’s throwing himself into a warzone. In all likelihood he’s already dead.”

            “He’s not dead,” Greg told him with conviction.

            “How do you know?” Greg noticed a flash of hope pass through Sherlock’s eyes before he guarded his expression again.

            “I don’t know, but I saw him at that duel,” Greg explained softly. “He was a hell of a shot. He wouldn’t have gotten himself killed. He’s not stupid, Sherlock, and well, he’s got something worth fighting for.”

            Sherlock bit his bottom lip and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

            “You bet your arse I am,” Greg said as he lied down on the unforgiving concrete of the building floor. He used his bag as a pillow and tried to get comfortable.

            Sherlock rested his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. A large chuck of it had corroded away. It made him think that even if England could be saved, they'd have a hell of a time trying to fix it back up. Sighing, he looked away and tried to find something else to distract himself with. He didn’t feel much like sleeping and everything was too quiet out there in the real world. There were no more birds, no more bugs, everything had simply died away. The only noise was Lestrade’s slow breathing as he began to drift to sleep. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to keep going, to find John as soon as possible.

            Thinking about John reminded him of the ache in his arse. It had been a foolish oversight not to put something inside him to ease the pain, but anything that wasn’t John just wouldn’t do. Instead Sherlock reached into his bag and pulled out John’s jumper. He took off his coat for a moment and slipped it on. He instantly felt warmer and pressed his wrist to his nose, smelling the sleeve. It made him feel good to be wrapped up in John, completely surrounded by him. It made him feel as if John were with him.

            He continued to inhale John’s scent until it began making him uncomfortably aroused. Screwing his eyes shut, he thought about anything else. He was halfway through the periodic table when he heard a door screech open below them.

            “Lestrade!” he hissed, shoving Greg to wake him up.

            “What is it?” Greg asked, rubbing his eyes.

            “We’re not alone,” Sherlock answered, getting to his feet. He went silently over to the window and saw a group of bodies now surrounding the building.

            He heard Greg get up and join him. “Shit,” Greg cursed and got his gun out. “How did they know we were here?”

            “They must have been able to smell my scent and followed it to this building,” Sherlock responded, pulling his coat over John’s jumper. The last thing he wanted was Lestrade to think he’d become sentimental. “We should go.”

            “Sherlock, they’ve surrounded the building, how exactly are you expecting us to get out?” Lestrade asked, his voice rising in concern. “Besides, they’ll just follow your scent no matter where we go.”

            Sherlock bent down and looked through his bag until he found his pills. He dry swallowed two of them and then put them back. “If we can’t go down, we’ll have to go up.”

            “Are you mad?” Lestrade asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “The only thing that will accomplish is making us trapped on the roof.”

            “They’ve already entered the building, we don’t have time to argue about this.” Sherlock took off towards the stairs and began to climb up them. Greg followed right behind him, keeping his gun at the ready and watching behind them.

            Sherlock wrenched open the door to the top floor and saw someone standing just ahead. At the noise of the door, the person turned. Its face was covered in boils and its chin and jaw were rotting away, leaving part of its skull exposed. Its eyes had clouded over to the point where you couldn’t even see pupils at all.

            “Get back!” Lestrade shouted, shoving Sherlock out of the way. He took aim and began shooting at the infected in front of them. The moment the first shot was fired, the infected began running at them, it’s arms outstretched.

            “Lestrade…” Sherlock growled lowly under his breath as the infected got closer and none of Greg’s bullets hit it.

            “Damn it!” Greg cursed and slammed the door shut, bracing himself against it.

            “I can see why you weren’t recruited into the army.”

            “Shut up, Sherlock.”

            “What exactly is the point of you if you can’t even kill one infected?” Sherlock asked snippily. “Why did you insist on coming along again?”

            “Shut your mouth Sherlock or I’ll feed you to that thing!” Greg snapped as he quickly reloaded his gun. He pulled the door open again and shot the infected right in the head. It fell in a heap on the ground. “Come on,” Greg said, grabbing Sherlock by the arm and leading him inside. He shut the door behind them and used a desk to barricade the door.

            “You know that door opens out, yes?” Sherlock asked, smiling in amusement. It had been forever since he’d felt like this, his heart beating quickly and the blood pumping through his veins. The only thing that came close was sex with John. “A blockade on this side of the door won’t stop it from being opened.”

            “I’m aware of that,” Greg answered shortly. “But it’ll slow them down at least. Now what exactly is your plan?”

            Sherlock sighed as though it was obvious and he resented having to explain. “There’s a fire escape on the north side of the building. By going upstairs, it’s more likely the infected will have followed us inside, leaving the outside free for us to escape.”

            “Oh, right.” Greg nodded, his cheeks blushing with embarrassment. “Let’s do that then.”

            “Follow me.”

            Sherlock led the way up a small flight of stairs to the roof. The door was old and rusty but he managed to get it shut and lock it. Making his way over to the fire escape, he looked down and noticed that what appeared to be a mob of infected were making their way into the building. He counted eighteen in total and those were just the ones he could see. There had to be even more inside. To his horror, a few were making their way up the fire escape, ruining his plans.

            “What do we do now?” Greg asked, standing beside him and noticing.

            “I’m thinking,” Sherlock answered tersely.

            “Come on, that big bloody brain of yours and you didn’t have a plan B?”

            “I didn’t think we would need a plan B,” Sherlock responded in annoyance.

            The infected had begun pounding on the door that Sherlock had locked. It seemed like only a matter of time before they managed to break it down, after all, it wasn't that sturdy to begin with. Sherlock calculated the distance to the next building, but without something to get across with, it was useless. As Greg had feared, they were trapped on the roof.

            Sherlock turned to Greg. “Go down by yourself and use your gun,” Sherlock instructed him. “There’s only five infected on the fire escape, if you manage them you should be able to get away.”

            “What are you going to do?” Greg asked, glancing down again and then back up at Sherlock.

            “They’re following my scent,” he responded. “They’re coming after me, I should be enough of a distraction for you to get away.”

            “What?” Greg asked, his jaw dropping. “You plan to stay here as bait? Since when have you been so selfless?”

            “It’s unlikely that I could get down the fire escape without attracting more of the infected,” Sherlock explained. “But you’ll be able to without a problem, that is if you aim a bit better.”

            “Sod that, Sherlock,” Greg growled angrily. “I’m not just going to bloody leave you here. Your brother would never forgive me.”

            “I don’t care what my brother would do to you,” Sherlock snapped back. “What good is it if we both end up dead?”

            “I told you that I’m not leaving you,” Greg told him firmly. “I’ve got your back.”

            Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Why do you insist on playing the hero even if it will cost you your life?”

            “Look, you’re going to find us a way out of this,” Greg insisted, grabbing Sherlock by his lapels. “Stop being so bloody negative. Now think, damn you!”

            Sherlock shoved Greg away. “There’s no time! Every minute we waste here is a minute that we’re closer to being eaten. I’ve given you an escape route, now take it and leave me!”

            “And I’ve told you to think of something else!”

            “You stubborn, idiotic –“

            “We don’t have time for this! Think of something!”

            The two men were interrupted by the roof access door flinging open. They both turned and Greg pointed his gun at the opening. He took a deep breath with his finger ready on the trigger.

            “At least this way only a few will be able to get through at a time,” Greg said, waiting for the first infected to show itself.

            “Greetings!” Jim Moriarty called out, stepping out onto the roof. He was holding a crowbar and seemed to be covered in blood.

            “Jim?” Sherlock called out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

            Jim grinned. “Well, I was back at the centre and I watched the two of you leave. I couldn’t help thinking _why the hell should I let them have all the fun_? So I armored trucks and followed you. This is a bloody good time, by the way, more fun than I’ve had in ages.”

            “You followed us,” Greg reiterated in disbelief.

            “Yes,” Jim responded with a nod. “I’m a little offended I wasn’t asked to come along to begin with.”

            “Why would we ask you along?” Sherlock inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “Did it not occur to you that I would want to come along?” Jim said, tilting his head to the side. “After all, Sebastian and I are actually mated, unlike you and John.” Jim pulled out his handkerchief and used it to wipe his face.

            “What does that have to do with anything?” Sherlock asked defensively.

            “Everything, darling, everything.”

            “You weren’t bit, were you?” Greg asked, looking Jim over.

            “No,” Jim told him. “These infected really are quite slow. I’m surprised they gave you so much trouble.”

            “You took them out?” Greg asked in astonishment. “All of them?”

            “For the most part,” Jim answered. “It was quite exhilarating. Although once I became covered in their scent, they more or less left me alone. I noticed they don’t eat their own kind, so after I smashed a few of their brains in and got covered, they stopped coming after me. The thought didn’t cross your mind, Sherlock?”

            “No, it didn’t,” Sherlock said, making a face.

            “Great, that means we have a way of getting out of here,” Greg interjected.

            “Fine, can we go then?” Sherlock asked, shoving his way past Moriarty.

            “What a sore loser,” Jim said, shaking his head.

            Once they got back into the hallway, Sherlock stripped off his coat and John’s jumper. He put them both safely away. On the wall there was quite a bit of blood from Jim’s tirade. Greg stepped over and stood beside him, looking at the same wall. “This is going to be unpleasant, isn’t it,” he grumbled rhetorically.

            “Oh, extremely,” Sherlock agreed.

            The two men looked at each other and then put their hands on the wall. Once they were covered, they began smearing themselves with the blood.

            “Come along boys, we haven’t got all day,” Jim sing-songed, walking past with his crowbar over his shoulder. There was something about the look on his face. Sherlock felt that he was enjoying this just a bit too much.

 

                                                                                                                     ***

 

            After safely staying in the city for the evening, the three of them continued south. They took Jim’s armored car as it was more equipped and Jim refused to stay behind. Each day that passed by that they didn’t find John’s platoon was another day of agony for Sherlock.

            “God, he’s pathetic like this,” Jim said, glancing at Sherlock in the back seat. Sherlock was lying across it, curled up into a ball, and softly whimpering.

            “We all are,” Greg said, sympathetically. “We all know what it’s like to go through a heat without an alpha. Just because you and I have it a bit easier now doesn’t mean we don’t remember what it was like before Sebastian and Mycroft.”

            Jim scowled. “I was _not_ like that,” he insisted. “When Sebastian isn’t around for my heat, I deal with it. I don’t whimper like a child.”

            “Come on, Jim, don’t be so harsh,” Greg chided. “He’s doing the best he can.”

            “Stop talking about me as if I can’t hear you,” Sherlock called out from the back seat. He turned so his back was to them.

            “What do you think this trip is going to accomplish, anyway?” Jim asked Sherlock, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s not as if you’re going to convince John to come back.”

            “You don’t know that,” Sherlock responded, biting his bottom lip nervously.

            “Oh please,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t make him stay with you before. What makes you think he’ll come back with you now?”

            Sherlock flipped over and glared at him. “Are we talking about me or you?”

            Jim’s eyes widened slightly before he schooled his expression. “Why would you say that?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

            “Sebastian has been on campaign are campaign getting rid of the infected,” Sherlock reasoned. “He’s been gone from the centre more than he’s been there. It seems that you’ve been unable to keep him with you despite the two of you being bonded together.”

            “Shut up,” Jim snapped at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Oh, don’t I?” Sherlock challenged.

            “Stop it, you two,” Greg interrupted them. “This fighting won’t get us anyway.”

            “I’ve never asked Sebastian to stay,” Jim said flippantly.

            “What?” Sherlock asked in surprise.

            “Just what I said,” Jim responded, his hands tightening on the wheel. “I’ve never asked Sebastian to stay with me at the centre.”

            “Why not?” Sherlock asked, sitting up and leaning forward so his head was between the two front seats.

            “Because I knew it was futile,” Jim told him, staring out at the road and refusing to look over at Sherlock. “And then you used your brother in order to get John to stay with you for an extra month. I was so…livid at you for doing that. You found a way to make John stay with you and you didn’t even have to ask him.”

            “Jim…” Sherlock said gently, his eyes searching.

            “Why don’t you ever just tell them how you feel?” Greg asked both of them. “Jesus, you two are both supposed to be bloody geniuses and yet you can’t even tell people the truth about how you’re feeling. Neither of you are robots. You’ve both had opportunities. They’re your alphas for christ’s sake. Why not just tell?”

            “John’s not my alpha,” Sherlock said, sitting back.

            “Not yet, anyway,” Greg said knowingly.

            “Because it won’t make a difference,” Jim said quietly. “He’d still leave.”

            The car grew quiet as the three of them drove on down the deserted road, past another ruined city.

 

                                                            ***

 

            They drove for three more days with no sign of John’s platoon or even any infected. Sherlock was beginning to think that either John’s unit was very efficient or this entire crisis had been blown completely out of proportion.

            It was the last day of his heat and he was beginning to think they wouldn’t make it to John in time. They couldn’t be bonded if he wasn’t in heat, which would mean waiting another entire month. The thought of waiting that long made Sherlock groan.

            They arrived in what used to be Portsmouth and began driving through the empty streets. The city had been almost completely abandoned until they got towards the center. One of the streets was blocked off.

            “Well, this is a good sign,” Jim said, pulling over and turning the car off.

            “Sherlock, that man’s in a uniform,” Greg said, pointing it out.

            “Yes, thank you, I noticed,” Sherlock replied curtly.

            “I think we found it,” Greg said, turning his head and beaming at his companions.

            Sherlock was out of the car in a flash and running towards the soldier. “Excuse me!” he called out.

            “Um, Sherlock?” Greg warned him.

            “Not a good idea!” Jim shouted.

            The soldier turned and looked at Sherlock. Immediately his eyes pupils grew dark with arousal. “Oh fuck, love, you smell fantastic,” he said, stepping closer to Sherlock.

            “Oh bollocks,” Sherlock said, having forgotten he was still in heat and that most soldiers tended to be alphas.

            “I can’t even remember the last time I smelled an omega in heat,” the soldier told him, taking in a deep breath. “Come here, sweetheart, I’ve got what you need.”

            “Sorry, I’m looking for someone,” Sherlock said, brushing him off.

            “No need, you’ve found me,” the soldier said, grabbing Sherlock’s hand.

            “Not good, not good!” Greg said, getting out of the car and hurrying over.

            Sherlock grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it, effectively breaking it in one movement. The soldier cried out in pain and dropped to his knees. “Now then, I’m looking for John Watson, do you know him?”

            The soldier shook his head.

            “Are you certain of that?” Sherlock sneered angrily, twisting the wrist even more. The soldier yelped even louder.

            “Sherlock, what are you doing?” Greg asked, tugging Sherlock away.

            “Trying to get information, what does it look like?”

            “You didn’t have to be so rough with him!”

            “He was being very annoying.”

            “Sherlock! You can’t just go around assaulting people as you please.”

            Jim finally made his way over, whistling to himself and his hands in his pockets. “You there, do you know Colonel Sebastian Moran?” Jim asked him.

            The solider nodded his head, still in too much pain to speak.

            “Take us to him this instant.”

            “I can’t,” the soldier said, shaking his head. “I’m not allowed to leave my post.”

            Jim sighed. “Then tell us where he is.”

            “Inside the base,” the soldier answered. “Big tent in the middle of all the rest.”

            “Thank you,” Jim said, stepping over the solider and making his way inside. Greg and Sherlock exchanged looks and then followed after him.

            “Sherlock, maybe you should wait in the car,” Greg whispered as they walked passed the other men in the base. “There are an awful lot of alphas here.”

            “I can take care of myself, thank you,” Sherlock responded snippily. “Besides, John wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

            “We’re not even sure John is here,” Greg reminded him.

            “He’s here,” Sherlock said with conviction. “He has to be.”

            It wasn’t difficult to find Sebastian’s tent as it was centrally located and easily twice the size of every other tent they passed. The soldiers they passed all turned their heads to watch them. Thankfully, none of them said anything or made a move towards Sherlock. A few of them looked a bit worse for wear and Sherlock could tell by their injuries that they had been through some tough battles. He became even more anxious to find John, to see him and verify that he was the same.   
  
            As they made their way inside the tent, it appeared that Sebastian was holding some kind of meeting. There was a map of England stretched out on the table and they were discussing some of the port cities. When he saw the three of them enter, he stood up and stared at them in shock, his eyes on Jim in particular.

            “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll just be a moment,” he said to the others before hurrying over. “Jim? What the bloody hell are you doing here? How did you get here?”

            “In a car,” Jim shrugged.

            “But why?”

            Jim looked up at Sebastian and blinked. “Do you really have to ask me that?”

            Sebastian stared back and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Kind of, yeah,” he answered honestly. “You’ve never…well, you’ve never done anything like this before. Why are Sherlock and Greg with you?”

            “Sherlock came to find John,” Jim told him.

            “Oh,” Sebastian said, glancing over at Sherlock and then quickly looking away. “I, um, come with me.”

            Sebastian led the three of them out of the tent and down towards another one. Sherlock didn’t like the look Sebastian had given him earlier and he started to feel his stomach turn. When they arrived at their destination, Sherlock stopped.

            “This is the medical tent,” he said, a cold shiver running up his spine. He started to get a bad feeling about it. Suddenly it felt like his feet refused to move. “Is John busy working?”

            “I’m afraid not,” Sebastian said gently. “Sherlock, I’m sorry.”

            “What is it?” he asked, fear gripping him. “What’s happened to John?”

            Sebastian gave Sherlock an apologetic look. “He’s been bitten.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end, folks! I'll have the last chapter up soon. Thanks for reading and sorry about the cliffhanger on the last chapter. 
> 
> Un'beta'd, all mistakes are mine.

John raced through the chaos. There had been a hoard of infected that they hadn’t anticipated. The men were currently outnumbered and falling fast. Gunfire and screams permeated the air. John realized just how lazy he had gotten while at the centre. His only activities for the most part had been fucking Sherlock. He cursed himself for not staying fit during that time. His lungs felt on the verge of exploding out of his chest and his legs were screaming at him to stop running.

            He hugged his medical kit to his side, not wanting to lose it in his haste. Sebastian had taken a team up to higher ground so they could begin picking off the infected. John had decided to stay and try to help any of the men he could. He was a doctor after all and this was where he belonged.

            He dropped down next to one of his fallen comrades. “What’s your name, soldier?” he asked, opening his kit and getting out some bandages.

            “Higgins, sir,” the man answered, his body already going into convulsions.

            “Okay, Higgins, I’m Dr. Watson and I’m going to get you fixed up,” John informed him, starting to treat his wound.

            “It’s too late for me, I’m afraid,” Higgins told him, his voice quivering with fear. “You better leave before I change, doctor.”

            “I’m not going anywhere,” John said, taking the man’s hand. He felt so utterly helpless. What good was a doctor if he couldn’t treat what was wrong with damn near everybody in the country?

            He gave the bite mark some disinfectant and then bandaged it up. “I’m sorry, that’s about all I can do,” John said, staring down at the soldier apologetically.

            “You’ve done enough, Doctor Watson,” the soldier said through gritted teeth. “You’ve given me at least a few minutes before I’ll turn into a thing.”

            John clenched his fists. How many times had he seen this? Men fallen with no hope of getting back up. Was there no hope of survival for any of them? “I’m sorry,” John said over and over, hating the entire rotten situation.

            John had no choice but to leave his comrade and try to find someone he could actually help. There were bodies all around him and he knew there was only a matter of time before they rose up again. He had to get out of there before he was surrounded with no way back to his platoon.

            He was packing up his things when he heard footsteps behind him. He whipped around and got out his gun, training it at the person closing in. He shot the infected woman without hesitation, able to see the signs of the disease at a mere glance.

            “Watson, get out of there!” Sebastian shouted from the rooftop. The gunshot seemed to have alerted the nearby infected of his presence. John grabbed his kit and tore through them as best he could. He shot with a little less precision than usual, unable to get headshots while on the move. Still, bullets did tend to slow them down at least a little. He could hear Sebastian and the others shooting from above him but they seemed to be a bit cautious with their shots since John was down in the fray.

            “Watson!” Bill Murray called out. He was being cornered by the infected with no escape. “I’m out of ammo!”

            John swallowed hard. There was no time but he couldn’t possibly leave Bill. “Hold on, I’m coming!” John shouted, reloading his gun in on swift movement and shooting the two that were causing Bill so much trouble.

            “Thanks, mate,” Bill said, sighing in relief.

            “We’re not out of the woods yet,” John told him, grabbing his arms and tugging him towards the rest of their unit.

            He handed Bill another clip for his gun and the two of them made their way towards the others. “Don’t shoot unless you have to,” John whispered. “It only attracts their attention.”

            Bill nodded in understanding and followed after John. “There’s more of them here than we thought,” he noted.

            “They must have congregated here for some reason,” John contemplated it. “There must have been something that drew them here. Maybe there were still people here or something.”

            “If there were, they probably aren’t anymore,” Bill reasoned. “Do you think there’s too many of them for us to handle?”

            “We’ll be fine,” John assured him. “No need to worry.”

            John turned the corner that led into the building that Sebastian was in. Their entrance was blocked by a group of infected desperately trying to get in. “Shit,” John said under his breath. “I don’t know how we’re going to get in there.”

            “We’ll shoot our way in,” Bill suggested, reloading his gun. “With the two of us, we should be able to get through.”

            “And if we can’t?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Then we die like soldiers,” Bill answered, standing up a bit straighter. John nodded and puffed himself up as well. He had always liked Bill. The man was so strong despite being an omega, overcoming the not inconsiderable obstacles in his way.

            “Come on then,” John said, grinning for the first time in days.

            Bill leaned down and planted a kiss firmly on John’s mouth. John was a bit taken aback by it for a few moments and then tentatively kissed him in return. The lips were all wrong, too thin and hard. He was thinking about Sherlock as he kissed another bloke. Sherlock would be furious with him if he found out. Not that he would if John died in the next five minutes.

            “I always liked you, John,” Bill said, finally breaking the kiss. “If things had been different and I had been honest about what I am, I would have wanted you to be my alpha.”

            “Bill, I –“

            “It’s alright, John,” he said, cutting him off. “I know you weren’t intended for me. I could sense it the night you saw me through my heat. It was enjoyable as hell, but the connection just wasn’t there. Still, I would have lived with it just to have a man like you.”

            John smiled and gave Bill a soft kiss. “I would have been honored,” he said, smiling.

            “Come on now, don’t get all soft on me,” Bill teased. “There is a bunch of infected just waiting for our bullets.”

            “Then we better not disappoint them,” John said, checking his weapon.

            John and Bill turned the corner and began shooting their way through the infected towards the building containing the rest of their unit. John’s clip ran out just as he reached the door and he’d given his last one to Bill. “Buggering fuck,” John swore, using the butt of his gun to smash in one of the infected’s heads. He wrenched open the door and looked back. “Bill, get in, now!” he hollered and Bill raced inside. John was about to follow when he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He turned his head to see an infected gnawing at his flesh.

            “John, no!” Bill called out. He shot the infected and it fell to the ground. Bill pulled John inside and locked the door after them. John fell to his knees and clutched his shoulder.

            “Bill – I –“ John gasped out, the edges of his vision beginning to blur.

            “No, John, don’t speak,” Bill said, holding him. “Come on now, you’re going to be fine. It’s barely a scratch.”

            “Please God…” John gasped out, picturing Sherlock’s face. “Let me live.”

            With that, everything went dark.

 

                                                            ***

 

            Sherlock frowned. “What do you mean he’s been bitten?”

            “Just what I said,” Sebastian answered levelly. “He was surrounded by a bunch of infected, he took out as many of them as he could but one of them got their teeth into him.”

            Sherlock felt rage bubbling up inside him. Before he knew what was happening, his fist connected with the side of Sebastian’s face. “Why didn’t you help him?” Sherlock shouted. “What kind of leader just abandons his men to get bitten? Why didn’t you keep him with you? Why did you let him go off on his own?”

            “Sherlock!” Greg called out, restraining the tall, lanky man and pulling him off the Colonel.

            “It isn’t Sebastian’s fault,” Jim reasoned. “John knew the risks. It’s the same risk they all take going out there.”

            “Sherlock,” Sebastian said, straightening up and wiping the blood from his lip. “He’s not dead.”

            “Of course he’s not dead,” Sherlock sneered. “He’s just one of those…those things.”

            “No, he’s not,” Sebastian informed him. “He’s not an infected.”

            “What are you saying?” Sherlock asked, feeling hope bloom in his chest. Was John all right?

            “It’s been three days now and he hasn’t turned,” Sebastian answered gently. “If he hasn’t by now then he won’t.”

            Sherlock’s face broke out into a relieved smile. He nearly jumped for joy.

            “Don’t celebrate just yet,” Sebastian warned him. “You realize what that means, right?”

            Sherlock took a moment. John had been bitten but John wasn’t infected, or perhaps he was and it just took a while to manifest? Sherlock hadn’t heard of such a thing before but if anyone was out of the ordinary, it would be his John.

            “I want to see him,” Sherlock said firmly.

            “He’s been quarantined, just in case,” Sebastian said, opening up the flap to the tent. “We couldn’t take any chances.”

            Sebastian nodded and ducked inside. He made his way back to a sectioned off part of the tent. There was plastic sheeting that kept John inside. When he heard footsteps, John got off his bed and stood up.

            “Sherlock?” he called out. “Am I hallucinating?”

            “No, I assure you, I’m truly here,” Sherlock said, feeling immensely better just from John’s presence.

            John smiled and placed a hand on the plastic. “You daft fool, what are you doing?”

            “I –“ Sherlock bit his bottom lip. He’d been so ready to say it but now didn’t seem right. John was infected and possibly dying. There was a wall between them. “I’m coming in.”

            “No, Sherlock,” John protested but it was too late. Sherlock forced his way into John’s quarantine before John even got the words out.

            “Hello,” Sherlock said, standing close to John.

            John shook his head. “You’re crazy.”

            “Possibly.”

            “Irresponsible.”

            “Indeed.”

            “Wonderful.”

            Sherlock smiled. “But of course.”

            John beamed back at him. He took in a deep breath and then frowned. “Oh my god,” he said, understanding dawning on him. “You idiotic, frustratingly stupid man!”

            “What?” Sherlock said, his brows stitching together.

            “You came here when you were in _heat?_ ” John shouted, his face turning red.

            “Yes, I, yes.” Sherlock faltered, unable to explain to John. “I’ve been taking suppressants, you see and I –“

            “What good is that going to do if you’re _already_ in heat?” John asked through gritted teeth. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

            “Says the man who’s been bitten!” Sherlock retorted.

            Any other argument John had died on his lips. He hung his head in shame. “Why did you come here, Sherlock?”

            “I…I want you to bond with me,” Sherlock blurted out, grabbing John by the shoulder.

            “Ow, fuck! Watch it,” John said, wrenching away. He lowered his shirt to show the bandage on his shoulder.

            “Oh, sorry,” Sherlock mumbled. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

            “No,” John responded.

            “Oh good.” Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief.

            “I mean, no, I won’t bond with you,” John answered, lifting his chin in defiance.

            “What do you mean you won’t bond with me?” Sherlock asked accusingly. “You told me before you left that you loved me.”

            “Yes, I did.”

            “Were you lying?”

            “No, of course not!”

            “Have your feelings towards me changed?”

            “Of course they haven’t, jesus, Sherlock!” John scrubbed his hands over his eyes in frustration. “You said you used to be a detective so how it that you’re being so bloody clueless right now? Are you just being willfully ignorant or the facts? My feelings haven’t changed but my situation definitely has! I’ve been bitten.”

            “Yes.”

            “And I haven’t turned.”

            “I’m aware.”

            “I’m a carrier, Sherlock,” John said in exasperation. “That means I don’t get infected but I can infect other people. Do you really think I’m going to bond with you, bite you, knowing that?”

            “I don’t care,” Sherlock waved him off.

            “Well I bloody well do!”

            “John, please,” Sherlock said, stepping closer to him.

            “No, Sherlock,” John said, taking a step back. “This is one area where you will not change my mind. I’m not going to hurt you, infect you. Do you really think I could live with myself after that?”

            “But – but this isn’t fair,” Sherlock said, his face looking so open and vulnerable that it nearly broke John’s heart.

            “I know,” John said, tentatively reaching up and stroking one of Sherlock’s impossible cheekbones. “I can’t even kiss you.”

            “Just when you had finally changed my mind about it too,” Sherlock joked gently.

            John gave him a small smile in response. This impossible man. If things had been different, John believed they could have been quite happy together.

            “Do me a favor, Sherlock,” John said softly. “Go back to the centre, find an alpha that you like, forget about me.”

            “John, why are you saying this?” Sherlock asked, grabbing John’s wrists.

            “I don’t…I don’t have any claim over you,” John said simply. “Not anymore. It would be too selfish of me to try and keep you now.”

            “Why not? Be selfish, I don’t mind,” Sherlock informed him. “I often am.”

            John chuckled. “Sherlock, I don’t want to keep you from being happy.”

            “Then return to the centre with me,” Sherlock requested, placing his forehead against John’s.

            “I can’t,” John whispered, closing his eyes. “They don’t let carriers inside the centre. It’s too much of a risk.”

            “I’ll talk to my brother, change his mind.”

            “I can’t ask you to do that.”

            “It’s not trouble.”

            “Sherlock, I can’t ask you to put your life on hold for me!” John shouted, shoving him away. “There’s no future with me. Any life we might have shared together is gone.”

            “I don’t care!” Sherlock insisted.

            “You don’t even really want this, Sherlock,” John reasoned, putting some distance between them. He couldn’t get to close to Sherlock, not with the way he smelled. Even though Sherlock was on his last day of his heat, the scent was still potent. John wasn’t about to let his biology take over. “You’re just saying this because you’re in heat.”

            “I take offense that you would think my heat would cloud my judgment,” Sherlock said indignantly.

            “How else am I supposed to explain you acting like a complete mental case?” John asked, staring Sherlock down. “There’s no way this is happening, Sherlock, so just get it out of your mind.”

            “That’s not very likely.”

            John groaned in frustration. “I kissed another omega,” he blurted out, trying to find some way of dissuading Sherlock.

            Sherlock stared at him for a moment. “I don’t care about that either.”

            “It was an omega that I’ve had sex with,” John continued, trying to find something that would put Sherlock off. He’s wasn’t using any kind of logic. John was a bit flattered that Sherlock wanted him that badly, but he also knew it was dangerous. Sherlock had a tendency to get what he wanted but John was holding firm on this. He had to dissuade Sherlock from wanting to bond with him, something he’d never imagined having to do. It was just John’s luck that a beautiful omega had risked everything just to mate with him and they couldn’t. “And we kissed. It – it reignited old feelings.”

            “That’s fine,” Sherlock shrugged. “I took another alpha into my bed and nearly let him fuck me. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even.”

            John was appalled at that. “Y-you – you what?” he shouted, feeling his possessiveness starting to take hold. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t hide his jealousy. He’d known there was a possibility that Sherlock would be with others while he was away, but hearing about it made him see red.

            “There, see!” Sherlock grinned triumphantly. “Don’t try and tell me there’s someone else. You wouldn’t be so upset if someone else had stolen you away from me.”

            “Who was it?” John growled. “I’ll kill him!”

            “It was no one of consequence and nothing happened,” Sherlock insisted, taking a step towards John, enjoying the closeness of their bodies. “You’ve been resisting me fairly well so far, given my current state.”

            “Yeah, well, I –“ John buried his face in Sherlock’s neck. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

            “I want you, John, please,” Sherlock begged quietly. “I haven’t had anything inside me this whole heat. I need you.”

            John groaned.

            “Just do what comes naturally,” Sherlock guided him. “Just bite me like you’ve wanted to since the beginning. I’ve wanted it too. I know that now.”

            John ripped away and got as far back as he could. “Bloody hell, Sherlock, are you suicidal?” John snapped at him. “Do you care so little for your own life. I might infect you!”

            “But you might not,” Sherlock reasoned.

            “I’m not willing to take that chance!”

            Sherlock sighed. “If you won’t bond with me then at least fuck me,” he negotiated. “Please, John.”

            “No, it’s too risky.”

            Sherlock whimpered. “We’ll be safe,” he insisted. “I’ll get a condom and we won’t kiss.” John nearly conceded. He wanted to so badly and Sherlock smelled so good. Just a month away from each other had left John feeling hollow. He needed the mad man standing before him. Without him he ached. Still, one of them had to be reasonable and it certainly wasn’t going to be Sherlock.

            “Sherlock, I –“ John sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t. We can’t. Now that you’ve offered yourself to me, I know that if we have sex then I’ll bite you. I won’t be able to stop myself now that I know you want it too.”

            “Then I’ll gag you so you can’t bite me,” Sherlock offered, walking over and kneeling down in front of John. “Please, John. It _has_ to be you.”

            John lowered his hands and stared at Sherlock. “Don’t you understand?” he whispered, cupping Sherlock’s face in his hands. “I can’t do anything that might harm you. I won’t take that chance. You’re too important to me.”

            “What about what I want?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

            John sighed. “You’re mad, absolutely mad,” he said, shaking his head. “I will get you off, Sherlock, but we do it my way. You don’t fight me on this, understand?”

            “Yes, John,” Sherlock nodded eagerly.

            “Now, go get me a few things…”

 

                                                                        ***

 

            “John,” Sherlock moaned out, twisting on the bed, desperate for more. He pushed down greedily. There was a sheen of sweat covering his body, his hair matted down. Only John could make him like this. Only his John.

            “Shh, it’s okay,” John cooed, twisting his fingers and making Sherlock moan again. “I’ve got you.”

            This wasn’t exactly what Sherlock had wanted but he considered himself lucky that he had talked John into even doing this. John had medical gloves on both his hands and a surgical mask over his face. It was all a bit more…clinical than usual. Still, John was there and his scent was as strong as ever. The bite hadn’t changed that.

            He knew that this was harder on John than it was on him. John had to keep his distance from Sherlock, kneeling on the bed with his mouth a safe distance away from Sherlock’s neck. He’d washed himself as if scrubbing up for surgery before putting on fresh clothes and the pair of gloves.

            John was now using both hands to turn Sherlock into a puddle of arousal. The heat stayed pooled in his groin as John fingered and wanked Sherlock expertly. It wasn’t exactly what Sherlock wanted but it was enough. Now just the smell of John could do unimaginable things to Sherlock.

            “Come on, love,” John said softly. “I want to see you come.” John added more lube and stroked Sherlock faster, twisting his hand to thumb over the head. Sherlock arched off the bed and moaned loudly. John struck his prostate hard and Sherlock saw stars as he called out John’s name. He panted as he came down from his orgasm, his chest covered in his release.

            “There we go,” John said, taking off his surgical mask and smiling softly. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

            Sherlock shook his head. “Will you let me take care of you now?” he asked, eyeing John’s erection greedily.

            “No,” John said firmly. “I don’t…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            Sherlock frowned and crawled over. “I’ll wear the gloves if you want.”

            “Sherlock,” John growled warningly.

            “I found a condom in my search,” Sherlock whispered in John’s ear. “Just let me put you in my mouth. Please John. We’ll be perfectly safe.”

            John groaned and Sherlock smiled, knowing he had him. He gently pushed on John’s chest until he was lying down. He undid John’s trousers with a haste brought on by his need. This was reckless and Sherlock knew it. One slip up and he knew there would be irreversible damage. Yet in his mind, John was worth it. A month apart had driven Sherlock to desperation.

He was about to reach into John’s pants when John’s hand shot out and stopped him. “Let me put the condom on,” he insisted. “I don’t want you touching it with your bare hands. No skin on skin contact.”

            “But why?” Sherlock pouted.

            “Watching you got me all – excited,” John informed him. “I don’t want to risk you getting infected.”

            Sherlock nodded and carefully handed over the condom. John slid it down onto his cock and groaned. “God, this is such a bad idea,” he said, staring up at the ceiling and shaking his head. “We shouldn’t even be doing this.”

            “Shh,” Sherlock said, lapping at the underside. “We’re being safe and this is my choice. This is what condoms are for, John.”

            John let out a little whimper. “Sherlock,” he groaned out, bucking his hips in search of that heat.

            “We can’t stay away from each other, John,” Sherlock informed him, suckling on the tip. “Not now.” He slid slowly halfway down and then back up.

            “Oh god, please don’t tease me,” John begged, his gloved hand coming down and settling in Sherlock’s hair. He pushed Sherlock forward eagerly, trying to get more of that wet heat around his prick. “Please, Sherlock, I need it. Watching you got me so close, you have no idea.”

            Sherlock hummed and began sucking John in long pulls. John forgot all sense of right and wrong as his eyes rolled back in his head. Sherlock was incredible. He had come all the way here just for John. Perhaps he was right and they couldn’t stay away from each other. They could find a way to make this work for them. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it was better than the alternative.

            “Sher-Sher –“ John panted out, his balls tightening up in anticipation of his orgasm.

            Sherlock sucked him even harder and John cried out as he filled the condom. His hand fell from Sherlock’s hair and he lied there boneless, trying to regain his senses. Sherlock pulled off and stared down at John. “Everything okay?”

            John nodded. “What about you?”

            “Completely fine,” Sherlock said, looking at John in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way that John found equally annoying and endearing. John rolled off the bed and carefully removed the condom, throwing it in the rubbish bin. He then retreated to the shower, scrubbing himself as clean as possible. He needed a moment to think about how dangerous that had been. If Sherlock hadn’t been in heat, John liked to think he would have stopped it. Stupid hormones.

            When John was fresh and clean with a new pair of clothes, he made his way back into the bed.

“My heat seems to be over now,” Sherlock informed him conversationally.

            “Yeah, I could smell it,” John murmured. Maybe now they could have their wits about them a bit more and stop being so stupid when it came to each other. “So what happens now?” he looked at Sherlock for some kind of reassurance about the future.

            “We go home,” Sherlock told him, lying down next to John but keeping enough distance between them for John to not worry.

            “We don’t have a home,” John whispered, turning to look at Sherlock.

            “We’ll find one,” Sherlock insisted. He reached down and laced his fingers through John’s gloved ones. “There are plenty of empty ones nowadays. I’m sure we can find one that suits us both.”

            “You’re absolutely mad, you know that right?” John asked, sighing contentedly.

            “That is a popular opinion, yes,” Sherlock said, grinning.

            John giggled a bit hysterically. Were they really going to do this? Live together but not bond for the rest of their days. Get each other off through layers of latex. Compared to the alternative, John supposed it wasn’t such a bad thing.

            “You came here to tell me something,” John murmured sleepily. “What was it?”

            “Nothing important,” Sherlock whispered, watching John’s heavy eyelids close. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

            “I look forward to hearing it then,” John said with a yawn. “You probably shouldn’t sleep here. I have a history of trying to bite you while unconscious.”

            “And I have a history of not letting you,” Sherlock responded. “We’ll be fine.”

            Fine. They would be fine. Somehow. Those were the last thoughts before John drifted off to sleep.

 


	16. Chapter 16

            John had never imagined his life would feel normal after the outbreak. He figured all concept of normality left when the infection arrived. Not that life with Sherlock Holmes could ever be considered normal, but they made do. John stood at the window with a hot cup of tea warming his hands. There wasn’t much to look at but at least it wasn’t full of infected.

            London and a few of the other major cities in England had been cleared out of infected. The cities were heavily guarded by the military and any infected that wandered close were shot on sight. London was returning to a small fraction of what it had been. Some of the shops were even beginning to open again.

            Sherlock and John had found a flat on Baker Street. Sherlock had insisted on bringing Mrs. Hudson with them and she became their downstairs neighbor. It was a beautiful flat and John enjoyed living there very much. He often felt a pang of guilt every time he saw a soldier. He knew he should be helping more than he was. He had opened his own clinic, figuring now that the infected were gone, it was time to treat the humans.

            “John!” Sherlock called out from the kitchen/laboratory.

            “Yes love?” John asked, turning around.

            “Hungry,” Sherlock said. He often only spoke in one word sentences when he was working. John sighed and went into the kitchen. He put his tea down and made Sherlock some toast. He placed it down by Sherlock’s elbow, knowing the genius would notice it when he wanted. He allowed himself to gently caress Sherlock’s curls, eliciting a small smile from Sherlock, before heading back into the livingroom.

            He turned on the telly and wasn’t surprised to see Mycroft’s face gracing it. Now that he was “ruler supreme” (or as he liked to call it, Prime Minister), Mycroft was often on the telly.

            John heard Sherlock made a disgruntled noise from the kitchen when he heard his brother’s voice. John chuckled and changed the channels. There were no new television shows except news broadcasts, but at least there were still reruns.

 

                                                            ***

 

            Jim sighed happily, pliant and satisfied in Sebastian’s arms. He was on his side with Sebastian pressed in tight behind him. He felt Sebastian smile against his skin as he continued thrusting deep inside Jim. Now that they had a flat of their own and Sebastian’s work only took him to the edge of London, they had spent a lot more time together. It turned out that ample time with Sebastian equated to a lot of lazy morning sex.

            “I have to go to work,” Sebastian grunted, making no real effort to bring their early morning activities to a close.

            Jim hummed but didn’t say anything in response.

            “When will you go back to work?” Sebastian inquired, nuzzling the nape of Jim’s neck.

            “When the world has finished righting itself,” Jim answered softly. “I won’t start playing the game again until all the pieces are back in order.”

            “Since when have you played fair?” Sebastian asked, wrapping his hand around Jim’s cock and pumping it in time with his thrusts. Jim let out a wanton moan and pressed into the sensation.

            “It’s no fun if I know I’m going to win,” Jim said breathlessly. “And make no mistake, right now, I would.”

            “Really,” Sebastian said, grinning in amusement.

            “No contest.”

            “What about Mycroft?”

            “What about Mycroft?” Jim turned his head, eyeing Sebastian in confusion.

            “He certainly took this crisis as an opportunity to gain a lot of power,” Sebastian noted, thrusting harder into Jim.

            “He has,” Jim said, biting his bottom lip. “I’ll have such fun bringing him down a peg or two.”

            Sebastian chuckled. “Plans for another day,” he murmured, licking Jim’s bondmark and making him come with a moan.

            “Another day,” Jim said in a daze, blissed out from his orgasm.

            Sebastian wrapped his arms around Jim and held him close as he continued to fuck him. “I love you, Jim,” he said, loud enough that he knew Jim could hear it.

            Jim turned his head and kissed Sebastian deeply. “I love you too,” Jim whispered, deciding that Sebastian had earned the words. He moaned as he felt Sebastian fill him. He’d had no idea that saying such a thing would have such an effect on his alpha.

            “Did you just…” Sebastian stared at Jim in disbelief.

            “What?” Jim asked, turning his face away. “Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

            Sebastian grinned from ear to ear and continued to hold Jim, all thoughts of work seemingly gone from his mind. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s just what I needed to hear.”

            Jim pressed his lips together for a moment. “Don’t go to work today,” he requested softly. “Stay here with me.”

            To his very great surprise and pleasure, Sebastian stayed. “All you ever had to do was ask,” he informed Jim, holding him a bit tighter.

 

                                                                        ***

 

            John shivered under Sherlock’s touch, even if there was a glove between them. Sherlock had insisted on studying John’s wound and for whatever reason, John had let him. He was sat in a chair at the kitchen table while Sherlock poked and prodded at his bite mark. Any pain he felt from it was gone, the only damage left was mostly emotional.

            “It’s terrible to think that someone biting me has kept me from biting you,” John said, breaking the silence.

            “The irony is not lost on me,” Sherlock said, pulling out his magnifying glass and studying it closer.

            “Just what are you hoping to find?” John asked, glancing up at Sherlock. God, it was a daily testament to his strength that he could live with a man that good-looking and not jump his bones every second he got.

            “Clues,” Sherlock answered as if it were obvious.

            “Right,” John nodded before thinking it over. “Wait, you’re not hoping to find the infected that bit me are you? Because Bill shot him in the head. He’s probably still lying there, but I doubt he’d be of much use to you.”

            Sherlock shut his pocket magnifying glass with a loud snap. He didn’t like any mention of Bill, seeing as John had kissed him. John shut his mouth and turned his face away, just a little bit ashamed, especially seeing as Bill might be the last person John ever kissed.

            “I have no intention of hunting down the creature that did this to you,” Sherlock said, standing up straight and leering down at John, making John feel impossibly small. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

            “Look, I’ve said I’m sorry about the whole ‘kissing another bloke’ thing,” John said for what felt like the thousandth time. “If it makes you feel any better, he kissed me.”

            “It doesn’t,” Sherlock said in a clipped tone. “Now get out of the kitchen, I have work to do.”

            John sighed and stood up. There was no point arguing. It would only make John feel even guiltier.

            “Oh and I might be needing some of your blood later,” Sherlock called out just as John was walking upstairs towards his room. “So don’t go far.”

            In truth, John didn’t even want to know.

 

                                                                        ***

 

            Greg couldn’t say he was terribly thrilled with the new and extremely public life he appeared to be living. He now had to have security following him around whenever he went somewhere thanks to Mycroft’s paranoia. He couldn’t get a cup of tea, walk down a street or even take a shit without someone knowing about it.

            The entire thing would have been unbearable had it not been for Sherlock and John. Every time Greg thought about how bad he had it, he remember that those two had it way worse. He couldn’t imagine living with Mycroft and never being able to touch each other. It had to be like hell on Earth. Greg didn’t think he had that kind of restraint and he _knew_ Mycroft didn’t. He didn’t feel like he had any right to complain about the way things were.

            After all, Mycroft was still attentive when he needed to be. He knew when Greg needed him better than Greg knew himself. When he was feeling a bit lost or lonely, Mycroft would be there to ease his fears. Sometimes it was nice having a partner that could read everything with one glance.

            “Gregory,” Mycroft called out, sitting down on the sofa. “Come to me.”

            He knew that even though it was framed as a request, it was really more of a command. Mycroft only ordered him about when he’d had a trying day and didn’t have the energy to put up with Greg’s stubbornness. So Greg bit his tongue and made his way over, putting his head in Mycroft’s lap.

            “Rebuilding this country is going to take more work than I thought,” Mycroft confided, running his fingers through Greg’s hair.

            “Well, at least we have you guiding the process,” he said, knowing to appease Mycroft’s vanity when he was like this.

            “It’ll be five years at least before England will be back on her feet,” Mycroft said with a heavy sigh. “There’s no economy to speak of.”

            “I know you’ll find a way to make this country great again,” Greg said, patting Mycroft’s knee sympathetically.

            “I know our new lifestyle hasn’t been easy on you,” Mycroft said gently.

            “I make do,” Greg lied. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about me when you have an entire country to run.”

            “But I do worry about you,” Mycroft informed him. “I always will. You are my top priority in all things.”

            “Oh don’t even try and pull that with me,” Greg said, letting a bit of his frustration bubble up to the surface.

            Mycroft removed his hand as if he had been burned. “What do you mean, Gregory?”

            Greg sat up and sighed. “Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not important.”

            “It was clearly important enough for you to snap at me just now,” Mycroft said, looking at Greg unblinkingly.

            Greg ran his fingers through his hair but didn’t say anything.

            “Have I been neglecting you, Gregory?” Mycroft asked in earnest.

            “No, you’re always there when I need you.”

            “Then what’s the problem?”

            “I don’t know,” Greg said, his shoulders slumping. “It’s like I’m a box you’re ticking off on your list of daily chores. Meeting with the cabinet at ten. See what’s wrong with Greg at eleven. Tea at noon. You see what I mean?”

            “I have never consider our time together as such, nor do I intend to,” Mycroft informed him. “You are important to me and so I make time for you throughout my day. Am I wrong to do so?”

            “No, you’re not wrong,” Greg grumbled. He learned long ago that the only way to win a fight with Mycroft was through sheer force of will. Today, he just didn’t have it in him to argue.

            “My omega,” Mycroft said, pulling Greg to him. “If you’re unhappy, all you need do is say so.”

            “What differences does it make if I’m unhappy?” Greg shrugged. “You have other concerns.”

            “My ambition is not blind, Gregory, I do notice those around me,” Mycroft assured him. “Tell me what more I could do.”

            “Come to bed every once in a while,” Greg said with a sigh. “Eat a meal with me where you aren’t doing twenty other things. Fuck me outside my heats. I know it’s selfish to expect all of your attention but hell, I deserve it some of the time!”

            “You’re absolutely right, Gregory,” Mycroft said, taking his words into consideration. He pulled Greg forward into a hungry kiss that Greg felt all the way down to his toes.

            “N-now?” Greg inquired, his eyes widening. “You want to fuck now?”

            “As the saying goes,” Mycroft said, his eyes becoming dark with arousal. “No time like the present.”

            Sex with Mycroft was always sensual, heated and passionate. It had changed over the years but there was always that spark. There was none of the immediacy and fervor that had existed when they first got together. There was a comfort in it but it was never dull.

            Greg panted under Mycroft, his body thrumming with heat and desire. Mycroft was being indulgent as if making up for everything. His lips, teeth and tongue seemed in no hurry as they moved down Greg’s body, marking and sucking and teasing him into a state. His erection was nothing more than a dull ache at that point. He wouldn’t be desperate until Mycroft was inside of him.

            He was in no rush with any of it. He finally had all of Mycroft’s attention and he soaked it like a sponge. He tried his best to commit each sensation to memory to use when he needed it. But a memory would never be as good as the living, breathing man, his weight comfortable and assuring on top of him.

            As he felt Mycroft breach him, Greg arched in pleasure. Their bodies perfectly slotted together as Mycroft took him. Greg fell to pieces underneath his mate, feeling tears welling up in his eyes out of joy, relief and a little bit of sadness. How long would it be before he had this again?

            “Don’t cry, my love,” Mycroft said, wiping the tears away. “Nothing will take me away from you.”

            Greg wrapped his legs around Mycroft and held onto him tight, silently communicating his need for his alpha. Mycroft held onto Greg just as tightly as together they released, all the tension in the room bleeding out until nothing but love and affection remained.

 

                                                            ***

 

            Sherlock had been ignoring John for the past three days. While Sherlock had warned John that this had a tendency to happen, John still didn’t feel prepared for it. He didn’t feel ready for how alone he felt even with Sherlock just ten steps away in the kitchen. He couldn’t help thinking that he might as well not be there at all.

            So he turned to the only person he could think of, the other person who had experience dealing with a Holmes. He met Greg for coffee in one of the new opened shops. It felt almost novel going to a place and ordering a coffee after everything that had happened. Two men followed Greg in and stood guard as the two of them spoke. It was unnerving and John had no idea how Greg did it.

            “Three days?” Greg echoed, taking a sip of his coffee.

            “Yeah,” John nodded. “Hasn’t said a word. Sometimes he mumbles to himself but that’s about it.”

            “Do you know what he’s working on?”

            “No clue,” John said sadly. “Won’t even tell me that much. All I know is that whatever it is, he is using my blood for it.”

            “Your blood?” Greg made a face.

            “Yeah, he took some a few months ago and every once in a while he asks for more. I guess he runs out of it or something.

            “Weird.”

            “I know.”

            “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, John,” Greg said reassuringly. “The Holmes brothers’ brains work on a different level to yours and mine. We’re like goldfish compared to them. Idiots.”

            “You don’t think it’s disconcerting that’s he’s doing experiments with my blood?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

           “I think it’s disconcerting that you two are living together and not shagging,” Greg answered honestly. “Sherlock doing experiments with blood seems pretty run of the mill for him.”

            John nearly choked on his coffee. “Who says we aren’t shagging?” John asked, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks.

            “Sherlock did,” Greg responded honestly. “He came round after his last heat. I think he didn’t know who else to talk to about it. Went on and on about how you refuse to put your cock inside him even though he bought condoms.”

            John’s entire face went red. “He did _what?”_ he asked, completely mortified. “I’m going to kill him.”

            “Look, I know this is tough on both of you,” Greg said, sympathetically. “But you can’t even imagine how hard this is on him. After all, having his alpha in the same flat during a heat but not getting fucked. That is _rough._ ”

            “I take care of him,” John growled defensively.

            “I’m sure you do, John,” Greg said, trying to diffuse the situation. “But it’s not the same, you know? He just wants to be close to you and Sherlock never wants to be close to anyone. It has to be pretty confusing. This must be killing him.”

            “I just…” John sighed heavily. “I know. Maybe things would be better if I just left.”

            “John, no offense, but that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Greg said with a grin.

            John wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and stared down into it. “I just don’t like the idea that I’m hurting him. That I’m _failing_ him, you know? I’m his alpha, I’m supposed to make him happy.”

            “You do make him happy. Don’t worry John, if I know Sherlock, he’ll find a way to sort everything out,” Greg told him. “After all, he loves a good puzzle.”

 

                                                            ***

 

            John made his way up the stairs to 221B. His feet felt heavy after his talk with Greg. He knew the man had just been trying to help him, but somehow he just felt more depressed. He was also extremely annoyed with Sherlock for airing their dirty laundry out to his brother-in-law.

            “Sherlock?” John called out, deciding that having a row was just what he needed at the moment. At least it would get Sherlock speaking to him. “Sherlock!”

            He opened the door to their flat and found Sherlock in the exact same place he had been when John left. John’s lips pursed together in annoyance.

            “Not now, John,” Sherlock said, waving him off.

            “Yes, now!” John said, slamming his hand on the kitchen table and making the glass beakers rattle.

            “Give me one minute!” Sherlock said through gritted teeth.

            “No, Sherlock! I’ve given you three bloody days!”

            “John!” Sherlock looked up at him for the first time in over 72 hours, his eyes blazing with excitement. “I’ve done it.”

            “Done what?”

            “I found the cure!”

            “A cure?” John asked, dumbfounded. “A cure for what?”

            “For you, idiot!” Sherlock scoffed. “What do you think I’ve been working on this whole time?”

            “A cure,” John blinked, still taking the information in.

            “Yes, yes, a cure!” Sherlock jumped out of his seat in excitement.

            “A cure for me. For the infection. You’ve cured it.”

            “Indeed I have!” Sherlock preened, waiting for the compliments.

            “Are you sure?” John stared at him skeptically.

            “Of course I’m sure!” Sherlock snapped, offended. “I’ve been testing your blood for months and I finally found a compound that works. All traces of the infection are gone from your blood.”

            John stumbled backwards until he flopped down in his chair. “You’ve found a cure,” he whispered, still unable to believe it.

            “I have, John,” Sherlock said, walking over and kneeling down in front of him. “Do you understand what this means?”

            “You haven’t talked to me in three days,” John said incredulously.

            “I knew I was getting close,” Sherlock shrugged it off.

            “And you didn’t tell me?”

            “I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Sherlock responded. “It was bad enough having my own elevated.”

            “You’ve been working on this tirelessly for months and months,” John said, shaking his head.

            “You’re not happy,” Sherlock said, staring up at John. “Why are you not happy?”

            “I am,” John said, closing his eyes and opening them again. “I am, of course I am, Sherlock. I’m still just…taking it all in.”

            “John,” Sherlock said, taking his hand. “Do you understand what this means?”

            “Yes,” John said, staring down at him. He gave Sherlock’s hand a squeeze. “We can mate. God, Sherlock, you’re…” There didn’t seem to be a word good enough. “You’re brilliant, incredible, amazing, impossible.” John wanted to kiss him so badly and soon he could.

            Smiles spread across both men’s face and neither felt as if they could stop.

                                                            ***

            John tumbled backwards as a tall, gorgeous genius pressed hungrily up against him. “Sherlock,” John grunted out as was he pushed back towards Sherlock’s room. “Are you sure the cure worked?”

            “Are you doubting my methods?” he asked, tearing open John’s trousers.

            “No, but you know, better safe than sorry,” he reminded him.

            “Oh shut _up,_ John!” Sherlock growled, shoving his hand into John’s trousers and fishing out his cock. “My science is perfect, the cure is perfect, you’re perfect. Now stop talking and kiss me.”

            John laughed and shook his head. Who was he to argue with such genius? He grabbed Sherlock and pulled him down into a desperate kiss that made both men moan appreciatively. Without realizing that they had moved even further into Sherlock’s room, John felt his knees hit Sherlock’s mattress. He let out an “oof” as he dropped onto the bed.

            “Finally,” Sherlock purred, sinking down and taking John’s cock into his mouth. The words on John’s lips died in favor of an adoring keen. He’d forgotten how good Sherlock’s mouth around his bare flesh felt.

            “Oh fuck, I’ve missed you,” John said, staring down at the man currently doing wonderful things to his lower half.

            Sherlock pulled off with a wet pop and smiled. “You have no idea,” he growled possessively, running his hands down John’s thighs.

            “Come here,” John requested, tugging Sherlock up. He began to lick at Sherlock’s neck at the spot he intended to bite. Sherlock let out a loud moan and clung to John tightly.

            “Do it,” Sherlock begged, his body trembling. “Bite me, John. Please.”

            John was hesitant for a moment. They’d been kissing and nothing had happened so far but a full on bite felt different. Sherlock felt his trepidation and pulled back.

            “Are you still doubting me?” he asked, searching John’s eyes.

            “No,” John promised, reaching up and running his fingers through the mess of curls. “It’s just…do you know how devastated I would be to lose you? Even if you are an insensitive prick who ignores me for days on end.”

            Sherlock grinned.

            “But still,” John leaned up and kissed Sherlock tenderly. “I don’t want to even think about what my life was like without you, let alone relive it.”

           “You’re one to talk,” Sherlock grumbled. “You’ve nearly died a lot more than I have. So maybe it’s you that should stop being so stupid.”

            John laughed. “Fine, I’ll stop being stupid.”

            “Good,” Sherlock said triumphantly. “It is ever so tedious.”

            John grinned and bit down on Sherlock’s neck in retaliation. Sherlock let out a surprised scream. John was worried perhaps he had hurt Sherlock until Sherlock began rutting against him in need.

            “John –“ Sherlock groaned, his voice so low and sensual that it went straight to John’s cock.

            “Undress,” John requested, his voice close to begging. He licked the wound clean and then pulled back. Sherlock scrambled to get naked, tearing his clothes from his body.

            John was in just as much of a hurry. After all, there was always a sense of urgency to their shagging when Sherlock was in heat. There was even more so as John knew claiming Sherlock was in his grasp. He couldn’t wait to have this gorgeous, unlikely, brilliant creature be his.

            Sherlock sunk down onto John’s cock without preamble and moaned as he bottomed out. “John!” he called out, tossing his head back and elongating his impossible neck. John could see the bond mark, bright red and stark again his pale flesh. It was too much to handle, seeing Sherlock clearly marked by John.

            He rolled them over and began to take Sherlock hard, pounding into him with such need. Luckily, Sherlock didn’t seem to mind, clawing at John to bring him closer. “Yes, John, yes!” Sherlock hissed out. “Oh fuck, John!”

            “I know, I know,” John panted out. In all the times they’d had sex, it had never been like this before. He had never felt so present before. All he could focus on was Sherlock. It was like every sensation traveled through him straight into Sherlock. He could feel everything Sherlock was thinking, everything he was feeling.

            “John, John, John,” Sherlock chanted, his eyes hazy with arousal, his cock leaking onto his stomach. This man was his.

            John pulled Sherlock’s legs up closer to his chest so that John could get deeper. He was practically fucking Sherlock into the headboard.

            “John!” Sherlock screamed out as he came. He twisted away, almost as if his orgasm has been too intense. John took the opportunity to flip Sherlock onto all fours and take him hard.

            John had never known such pleasure, not even with Sherlock. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay there, like he was, his body infinitely connected to Sherlock. Never breaking apart, never knowing what it was like to be without him again. They’d gone too long, too long without knowing each other, too long without this. He needed Sherlock like he needed oxygen. Essential. Sherlock was essential.

            “John! Oh John! Please!” Sherlock cried out, clawing at the bed, and John came back to himself long enough to witness Sherlock’s second orgasm. John kissed along Sherlock’s spine, tasting the salt of his sweat.

            “Sherlock,” John groaned out, feeling that familiar tug of orgasm. Soon Sherlock would be his. “Tell me you want this.”

            “Want what?” Sherlock asked, too blissed out to understand. “Your cock?”

            “No,” John shook his head. “Me. Forever.”

            Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, John.”

            John dropped his head between Sherlock’s shoulder blades and began to giggle uncontrollably.

            “John?” Sherlock called out in confusion.

            “Nothing,” John said, picking back up his early pace. “Nothing to worry about, love.”

            Each sound Sherlock made underneath him went straight to his cock. His knot had inflated and he shoved it in happily as he let go. Sherlock let out a cry and came twice more before crashing onto the bed and taking John with him. John turned them on their sides so they were spooning, their bodies still linked together. He licked at Sherlock’s bondmark tenderly and Sherlock wiggled under his ministrations.

            “Ticklish,” he murmured.

            “Right,” John said, burying his face in Sherlock’s neck and inhaling deeply.

            “I suppose this means you can move your stuff down into this room now,” Sherlock rumbled in exhaustion.

            “Does that mean you’ll be turning my bedroom into your laboratory? Will I finally be getting the kitchen back to cook proper food in?” he teased.

            “If you’d like,” Sherlock said with a shrug.

            John smiled. “That thing you were going to tell me but never did, do you think you could tell me now?” he asked, goading Sherlock a bit.

            He felt Sherlock tense in his arms.

            “You don’t have to say it,” John whispered. “I know you do. You wouldn’t have stuck with me this long and worked so hard on the cure. Actions speak louder than words and based on what you’ve done…well…it’s almost intimidating. After all, how can I even begin to compare?”

            “John –“ Sherlock interrupted. “I didn’t do it for any kind of reciprocation. My motives were entirely selfish. I wanted you with me. I wanted you cured.”

            “Still,” John whispered, nuzzling Sherlock’s neck. “How can I even begin to thank you?”

            “Just stay here with me, in Baker street, and don’t die,” Sherlock told him.

            John laughed. “It’s a promise then.”

            “And you have to love me back,” Sherlock added, turning his head slightly to glance back at John.

            John beamed at him in return. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Sherlock’s lips. “It goes without saying.”

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it guys! Thanks to everyone who stuck with me and urged me to keep writing. I hope I got this story (that took forever) to a satisfying conclusion. What can I say, I'm a sucker for happy endings. I love you all, thanks for reading.


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